Big Dick Problems
I’ve been carrying around a specific shame since I was maybe seven or eight. We were at a nudist beach in Italy—my parents dragging me along—and I saw a grown man’s dick for the first time. Not in some formal way, just there, as these things are in those places. I remember looking at myself and thinking, without the language for it yet, that I’d somehow gotten shortchanged. That particular piece of sadness never really left me.
Which is why I find it kind of beautiful and ridiculous that there’s this forum online called Big Dick Problems. It’s exactly what it sounds like—guys with legitimately large dicks gathering to talk openly about the ways their size actually makes their lives worse. They swap photos, trade tips on condom shopping, tell stories about the practical and social complications of carrying around that much equipment.
Someone posted, ’I almost killed my girlfriend with it.’ Another guy talks about sending someone a dick pic and having her not believe it was actually him—too impossible to be real. Another got stopped at airport security because the shape in his pants looked suspicious enough to warrant a second look. You laugh at it, but then you realize these are genuine problems. Dating becomes this weird negotiation. Sex is always complicated. There’s no easy answer because the problem is built into the body.
I don’t know what I expected going in. Maybe bragging. Maybe some fantasy where a big dick is just pure advantage. But these guys seemed genuinely frustrated. The thing that’s supposed to make them powerful is just another source of anxiety. I read through enough of those posts to stop envying them, but I also didn’t stop, exactly. I just got tired of the whole thought.