I’m a self-proclaimed priss, and bathroom humor is not my thing, so I almost had to stop reading at the second paragraph of The Frisky’s “Intimacy Is Gross” post. But I’m glad I didn’t.
Desiree Browne writes of sharing the worst and most odious bodily functions with her boyfriend without embarrassment–I was embarrassed for her, but she seemed relatively untraumatized by the experience of (I’m just going to say it): shitting her pants in front of her boyfriend.
Whereas I would have grabbed my passport and left the country if that happened to me, Browne’s period of mortification was relatively short. It turns out, she and her boyfriend have a pretty relaxed, easygoing relationship when it comes to universal biological functions.
And while I blushed and winced throughout her essay, which was peppered with more references to gross things than I am normally accustomed to reading on a Monday morning, I ended up admiring the couple who obviously feel so comfortable with each other.
“In our three years together, I’ve let myself go. Women’s magazines say that’s the last thing you should do, but I wouldn’t have it any other way. I love that my boyfriend doesn’t mind that I’ve fallen off the wagon with my bikini waxes and hardly notices that I only shave my legs a few times a month during the winter. He notices when I look good, even in a normal T-shirt, and doesn’t treat me any differently when I don’t.”
That’s kind of sweet, right? Even if it DOES mean being ok with your boyfriend coming in to use the toilet while you’re in the showe–ok, no, nope. Do not want. Do not ever want. [The Frisky]