Last Night Changed Something in Me—And I Didn’t See It Coming
Last night, I was casually using my girlfriend’s phone to look something up—my data wasn’t working. That’s when I stumbled on an open tab titled:
“Blowjob Tips for Small Penises.”
I burst out laughing and showed her what I’d found, intending to just joke about it. I figured the only reason she’d been reading something like that was to make things better between us. That, in itself, is kind and thoughtful. But as I stood there cooking dinner, the laughter started to fade. I felt this weird coldness creep in—like when you’re a few drinks in and the world starts to blur and drift just out of reach.
She was clearly mortified that I saw it. I knew she hadn’t meant for me to. And I wanted to keep it light. But something inside me wouldn’t let it go.
Eventually, I asked the question I’d been dancing around in my head:
“Do you think I’m small?”
Without missing much of a beat, she replied:
“You said it yourself—you’re on the smaller side.”
That stung more than I expected.
So I pressed further—“Did you just search for those tips right away? Or did you try other ones first, realize they didn’t work, and then go looking for something more… specific?”
She admitted she went straight to “tips for small dicks.”
And then, yes, I asked the question. The one every man secretly dreads:
“So… am I the smallest you’ve ever been with?”
She looked at me and said:
“Yes. But the best.”
And logically, I know that should’ve helped.
But emotionally? It didn’t. Not even a little bit.
I kept cooking in silence. Later, we sat down to dinner and actually talked. I opened up about how I felt, why it bothered me so much. She listened, apologized, and told me she wished she could take it back.
For context: I’m 5.5” with good girth. Objectively, that’s average. But I’m also 6’2” with a solid rugby-player build—and, honestly, being a grower doesn’t help the proportions when everything else about me reads “big.” I’ve always been low-key insecure about it. So when the person I care most about confirms that insecurity as fact—yeah, it hit harder than I wanted it to.
What’s ironic? She’s only 5 feet tall. And she thinks it’s small.
We still managed to enjoy the rest of the night—watched a movie, laughed, even had sex. But during that last part, something shifted. I looked down at her, and instead of thinking “God, she looks amazing,” I thought:
“She’s right. It really does look small.”
This is my own baggage—I know that. But it’s a heavy one to carry.
The next morning, she was up before me. I came into the kitchen to make breakfast, and I couldn’t even meet her eyes. I flinched when she leaned in for a kiss. That wasn’t me being petty. That was me reacting from a place I hadn’t dealt with yet.
We talked again that morning. I admitted that while I thought I’d moved past it last night, clearly I hadn’t. Not really.
I don’t expect a magic fix. I know some people would just say, “Get over it,” or “Leave her.” But it’s not that simple when your self-image, your pride, your vulnerability—all get tangled in a moment you didn’t see coming.
So I’m putting this out here as a kind of hail Mary. Hoping someone out there understands this feeling and can offer some real advice.
I didn’t think I’d be posting an update, but here we are. First of all, thank you to everyone who reached out with kind words and encouragement.
We did our best to enjoy the rest of that weekend. It wasn’t perfect, but we made a few good memories.
Since then, a lot’s changed. I’ve worked through most of those insecurities—thanks in no small part to many of your comments, some therapy, and consistently hitting the gym.
That said, my girlfriend and I broke up earlier this year, in February.
It had nothing to do with that night.
We were just moving in different directions in life, and we realized we weren’t quite the right match for the long haul. It was mutual and respectful—we walked away as friends, not enemies.
And now? I’m in the best headspace I’ve ever been. Truly.
Sure, I’d love to meet someone new eventually. But I’m not rushing it.
For now, I’m focusing on me.
Thanks again to everyone who offered kindness, wisdom, and solidarity. If you’re reading this and feeling something similar—I hope you find the same clarity and healing that I did.
