An Indelicate Subject

My bestie recently texted me from the bathroom of her new boyfriend's place. At Neil's...terrified he'll hear me fart in bathroom...I can't make enough distracting noise!

There are two types of women in the world; those who get fart jokes, and those who don't.

It seems like the girls who find the humor in fart jokes are so much more secure with tooting in front of new boyfriends, new girlfriends...anyone really. They're like the walking, talking, Dove positive body image of body functions.

They're passing gas right now!

Their parents read them "Everybody Poops" and they took notes.

Personally, I fall into the camp that just do not get it. And one would think potty humor would be right up my ally. I had the upbringing that should have led to embracing flatulence as a fact of life. I grew up with older brothers. To this day they adore bathroom humor. Everyone at my house went to the bathroom with the door open, including me.

Shouldn't that have led to me being open about tooting?

Don't get me wrong, there are some crass things I love. Beer? Um, hell yeah. Swearing? Let's paint a rainbow of vulgarity. Sex talk? The dirtier the better. Air naturally evacuating your body? Unfortunate occurrence that should be avoided at all costs.

I go out of my way not to break wind. I'd been with my husband for over three years before I had a full sound fart in front of him. It was horrifying. In fact I was never flatulent in front of any guy I dated. Ever. I don't even say the word 'fart' out loud. It's the 'F' word at my house. So when my gf texted me this I felt her pain. I'd been in that predicament before. This is a silent struggle about a not-so-silent stinky matter.

Flatulence and your dating life.

I'm sure guys on some level are just as horrified to poot in front of a new female they're trying to woo. Or a male for that matter. I'm not sure of the ins and outs of male/male dating rituals as pertains to flatulence. For women it's something I believe most of us vigilantly try to avoid. From a young age those of us who fear the flatulence begin a regimen of asshole clenching exercises that are akin to Asian feet binding.

Over the years we unwittingly train our bodies to hold our farts for days. Every little girl you see with her back ramrod straight, sitting at her desk with a troubled look. She's not worried about the test or her homework for tomorrow. She's concerned her silent noxious ass vapors--that are swirling around her, in an invisible haze--are going to become apparent to the twenty other students in her class. That little girl is on the road to a lifetime of asshole clenching.

Should we tell that little girl to just let it rip and and own it? I don't know. My preference would be for no one to let it rip. For no one to own it. When I'm on a plane or elevator and the stank of human gas is upon me, I wrinkle my nose with everyone else, and I pretend that it did not happen. I do not laugh. I do not gag, as much as I'd like to. I do not acknowledge it at all.

As it should be.

And those of us who hold our farts and pretend they do not exist, know that no amount of fart positive is going to get us to unclench. I would just like you to know you are not alone. There are others just as uncomfortable and horrified by that particular body function. So the next time you're hiding out in the bathroom of your date's apartment, fearing being heard, know you are not alone. And toilet paper wadded and tightly snugged to your asshole helps silence the sound. Just an FYI on a DIY butt muffler.

So, remember, everyone farts, but lets all pretend that we don't.