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As a newcomer, I think I should qualify myself.

I have been struggling with this for a long, long time. I am 54 years old, and calculate that I have been obsessed with penis size for at least 40 of those years, fantasizing about having a much bigger one than I do - several times a day - every day - for those "at least 40 years." Once in a while, I surprise myself by realizing that a few hours have gone by without thinking about it, but that is rare.

As a child, I had a bed-wetting issue. In retrospect, its cause was very simple. I drank too many fluids between dinner time and bed time. Such a simple idea didn't seem to cross the minds of my parents, so under the advise of a pediatrician they took me to a urologist. This "doctor" determined that the opening at the end of my penis was too small to allow my bladder to empty completely, and recommended surgery to correct the problem. Unfortunately, my parents didn't consider getting a second opinion. A vertical slice under general anesthesia did it, along with the embarrassment of a nurse demonstrating, on me, how to (painfully) pull the wound open, several times a day, so it wouldn't heal shut.

Needless to say, I stopped the bed-wetting. Not because there was now sufficient flow from the surgery, but because of the psychological trauma - they cut my dick! What might they do next time? The physics behind the whole idea of "too small an opening" was absurd. A tire goes flat if it has a hole in it - the air escapes through the hole. Big hole = flat right away. Small hole = flat in a longer time. Even a tiny pin-hole allows the tire to deflate completely. Again, it just takes longer. Like the tire, one's bladder is under pressure - not as much, but there is still a squeezing effect. Rarely is anyone in such a hurry that they cannot wait to evacuate completely at the toilet!

As an added "benefit" from this procedure, my subconscious was given a very clear message that my penis was "faulty."

My penis was, from then on, to be a source of shame.

Damn... I wasn't even close to adolescence yet, and I was already shamed by my poor little penis.

I also very likely concluded from that experience that having anyone touch my penis was not going to be very pleasurable!

My parents meant well. They have always been subservient to authority, and doctors were considered authority...

My own relationship with authority is just the opposite. Is it any wonder why?

I entered puberty in the early 1970s. This was just after the beginning of the pornography explosion. Playboy and Penthouse magazines, then Hustler, could be found on most newsstands. 8mm films were available long before the VCR came on the scene. Hardcore magazines were around, but were more underground. It was only a matter of time for me to be exposed to images of men with much, much larger penises than mine, pleasuring attractive women. When I first saw John Holmes, all of my childhood comic-book superheros were superceded. That was the beginning of my fantasy of "if only I were hung like that!"

I liken myself to someone with a phobia.

Someone with a fear of flying can be educated so that they intellectually understand that commercial airline travel is the safest way to get somewhere. "Deaths (injuries even more-so) per million passenger miles traveled," are thousands of times lower by commercial airline than by automobile.

Intellectually, this person knows - without a doubt - that it is safe to fly. But EMOTIONALLY, he cannot get himself to board an airplane. He is gripped with fear.

I know, intellectually, that I fall right dead in the center of the bell curve for penis size, give or take some statistically insignificant fraction.

I know, intellectually, that penis size is not the first thing the majority of women think about when considering a man as a potential sexual partner.

But EMOTIONALLY, I have already disqualified myself, on a subconscious level, because I am not "hung" or "huge," and that is what my subconscious has been programmed, by pornography, to think that women want and need. That, and a muscular physique, a handsome face, etc., even though I consciously know the truth to be otherwise.

For most of my sexually-aware life, this core belief held me back from pursuit of sexual encounters. I didn't lose my virginity until my mid twenties, and that was with a prostitute (the first of many), and I suffered from so much performance anxiety that I couldn't stay erect long enough to orgasm.

I am much, much better now. I worked through a lot. I got addicted to hard drugs in my late 30s and found my way out. I got married at 41 and even fathered a child - my daughter is 11 years old and is a real sweetheart! My relationship with her mother now is even less than platonic, but we maintain a cordial atmosphere for our daughter.

Yet... Deep down inside my psyche, the monster lurks. It surfaces occasionally, but I am able to keep it more or less at bay, and the pain isn't nearly as great as it used to be!

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Hmm, that was an interesting read. Porn is truly a terrible industry. Who knows how successful you could have been if you had no other basis for comparison.

Anyway, I used to work in the medical field, (in the operating room particularly) and every single male patient I have ever seen coincidentally happened to be longer and wider flaccid than I am fully erect, and myself am on the lower end of average at 5 x 4.75 erect or so. I used to blame porn/Internet for this problem, but surely I would have eventually gotten psychological damage if I entered the medical field. My sample size of men was small, however, it was large enough to make me feel abnormal.

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Thanks for replying, TW.

High school gym class locker room showers.

Need I say more?

Maybe I do...

Halfway through my senior year at high school, the idiotic school administration announced that Phys Ed was going coed. WTF?

It was bad enough to be the skinny, dorky, anti-jock, who always got picked last, around just my male classmates. Now my shame was to be displayed like this in front of the girls?!?!

No, thank you very little!

I cut Phys Ed for the second half of my senior year. I didn't graduate because of that. (To be honest, my grades sucked too, but at that point, I just didn't care anymore.)

My comparisonitis wasn't confined to only my genitals - it extended around me like an aura.

Like a big, bright, neon-lit aura that transmitted one message; "LOSER."

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Its not easy- jeez, I know that well enough

But I have read posts on a forum with guys worse off than us (way worse)- and SOME (not gonna many or most) guys find a form of peace.

Doesnt always mean you are going to find someone- I think we are best off finding an inner peace and acceptance (and if that means long term singledom so be it) and if a nice, accepting girl comes along thats a bonus

we are all gonna die some day- no point in bringing it closer.

and some of my married friends say they hardly ever have sex anyhow...

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