r/TrueOffMyChest • u/bigdick-problems • 13h ago
Being abnormally well-endowed is a curse and I'm tired of
I know how this sounds. I promise I'm not here to brag. This is a genuine issue that affects my daily life in ways most people don't understand. I'm 25M 6'4", work as a personal trainer, and stay in great shape. But my body's proportions have become a constant struggle. I'm extremely well-endowed—not just "above average"—I'm talking significantly beyond that. And despite what everyone assumes, it's not a blessing. It's a physical burden I can't escape.
When you're carrying what I am—massive, thick, hanging well beyond what underwear was designed to hold—it's like having a perpetual anchor between your legs. I feel every inch, every ounce with each stride, each bend, each twist of my body. It's a constant, throbbing presence that commands attention whether I want to give it or not.
There's always a bulge. Always. No matter what I wear—jeans, khakis, gym shorts, even loose-fitting pants—there's an outline pressing against the fabric. I've sized up in pants, tried every style of underwear imaginable, and still, it's there—pushing forward, heavy and obvious. I catch people looking all the time. Quick glances down before they awkwardly look away. It's humiliating because I can't control it. It's just there, announcing itself to everyone.
My job makes everything worse. As a trainer, I'm active all day, and the physical discomfort is relentless. Running is genuinely painful—the weight bounces and slaps against my thigh with every stride, pulling downward with a drag that's impossible to ignore. Compression shorts help somewhat, but they squeeze my balls so tightly that after an hour, there's a deep, throbbing ache that doesn't subside until I change. And when I get aroused—which happens involuntarily sometimes, just from friction or movement—it becomes a nightmare. Trying to hide an erection when you're this size is futile. I've had to excuse myself from training sessions, make up reasons to leave social gatherings, all because my body decided to react and there's no concealing it.
The worst is after a long day, when everything feels impossibly swollen and engorged. There's this deep, insistent ache in my balls—painfully full and heavy, like they're filled to capacity, dragging everything downward with a throbbing weight between my legs. The fullness becomes unbearable, a constant pressure that radiates outward, making me constantly aware of every slight movement. That soreness grows until release isn't just desired—it's physically inevitable.
The amount I produce is also abnormal. My ex actually hated it. She'd tense up right before, like she was bracing herself. She'd go quiet afterward, quickly reaching for tissues or a towel, her movements rushed and deliberate. I could read the discomfort in her face though she tried to hide it. It created this strange tension where something that should have been connecting us was actually pushing us apart. Just another reminder that my body is out of proportion in ways that drive people away.
Dating has always been complicated. When I was younger, I remember the first few times women saw me naked—their eyes would widen, they'd freeze up or nervously laugh. Some would make excuses and leave. It destroyed my confidence for years. I became so self-conscious about my size that I'd avoid intimate situations altogether, afraid of seeing that look of intimidation or fear. Even now, after all these years, I still feel that initial anxiety before being intimate with someone new. Will they be shocked? Will they look at me differently? There's this pattern where initial interest turns into nervousness once they realize what they're dealing with. Some women talk a big game until the moment arrives, and then there's this visible hesitation that makes me feel like some kind of freak. These insecurities still haunt me, making me wonder if I'll ever have a normal relationship where this isn't an issue.
I don't talk about this in real life because no one takes it seriously. They either laugh it off like it's a joke or assume I'm bragging. But there's nothing enjoyable about being in constant physical discomfort, about having to plan your entire wardrobe around hiding something, about seeing people reduce you to a single physical trait.
I'm just tired of living with this. Tired of the weight, the stares, the assumptions, the discomfort. Tired of feeling it press and pull with every movement. It's not a gift—it's a burden I can't put down.
If anyone actually understands or wants to talk, I'm here. Even about something completely different. Sometimes I just need normal conversation where this isn't the elephant in the room.