If you’re anything like me, you’re no stranger to this bedtime routine: You lie in bed preparing for slumber, only to turn and see your stomach-sleeping boyfriend reminding you of the round and perky fact that you can never outrun, in waking life or otherwise. Yet we must go on living and even seek acceptance of the realities we cannot change, difficult though it may be. Here is how I sleep at night always with the knowledge that my boyfriend’s ass is bigger than mine.
It’s important to calm and center yourself as you work through psychic pain of having a boyfriend with a full, perfectly spherical ass that puts your quiet butt to shame. I close my eyes, breathe in through my nose, out through my mouth, and try to go my happy place, which includes my boyfriend, but redirects focus away from how his juicy ass looks in chinos.
His big ass does not make mine smaller.
Comparison is the enemy of happiness. While his randomly incredible ass may really put into perspective the fact that I’m working with two flat little butt cheeks (they have not earned the title Ass), in order to catch a wink of sleep at night I must remember, his fully formed buttocks exist independently from me, and it do not make mine any smaller. Of course, when we stand next to each other, the jarring contrast shines a bright light on our disparate endowments, but I’m fine with that. He must never get uncomfortable in folding chairs and I celebrate that for him.
So many men are entirely assless, yet my boyfriend has been blessed with a bounty of ass. Rather than indulge resentment or hard feelings, I try to focus on cultivating gratitude for the ass in my life, even if it’s someone else’s. Of course, my large-assed boyfriend doesn’t wear high-rise jeans or pencil skirts or women’s bathing suits, whereas I do and could really benefit from having some butt circles in them, but that doesn’t mean it’s “unfair” or a “monumental waste” for him to have a bigger ass than me. That’s not something I would ever say, however true and valid it may sound.
I have boobs.
I have boobs and he has none, so maybe he should think about that.
One I work through these actions and thought processes, I am emotionally exhausted and drift into a defeated doze, only to do the same the next night. And that’s all it takes to sleep at night knowing that my boyfriend’s ass is bigger and generally better than mine. C’est la vie!