needsomehope wrote:I swear everyone on here is 7 inches plus. the fact were supposed to put our size in our signature just feels like a way to boast. maybe us small guys just aren't meant to have sex. guess it doesn't matter my dicks been broken all my life, probably wouldn't have used it much anyways.
Simply and wildly untrue.
The guys here run the entire bell curve and spectrum of both physiology and psyche and, if there's one thing FT overwhelmingly isn't...is a bragger's forum. It's a safe place to be vulnerable and let one's guard safely down, though. Which, you are certainly sort of doing here with your posts.
Because of the significant baggage you are obviously carrying, maybe you are (understandably) only hearing and seeing those things on FT which most demolish your already compromised state of mind on all things related to your dick. I respectfully submit to you that not all of this is about your dick - it's just not - and that you might benefit from doing some really serious and committed work with a very capable therapist to scrape down to the things underlying here. Your dick (its size, and what it will or won't do) are just the too-obvious focal points.
I'm not lecturing, man. I'm just stating what seems patently obvious. You need to dig in with a therapist who knows what the fuck they're doing. You think all you need is an iron-bar 8" dick and your life will be a carefree party? Maybe not. My size is (was, before implantation) at the bigger end of things and I was unhappy as hell in my prior relationship. Was not even particularly motivated to get my dick fixed, though there were at that time fairly easy options to do so. I was unhappy, my relationship was sideways, work was all wrong, I was just generally ambivalent and unsatisfied for a short period in my life there, I was in the mental abyss and my 8" dick was not my savior. Not even close.
Larger point being - maybe you need to do some serious foundational work on yourself...AND...get your dick working as best as medical science, your abilities, your motivations and wallet will allow. Both. Soon.
The depressive funk you find yourself in is no good. Obviously. Please work on getting that stuff figured out and on a better path. There are ways to get both going in a more positive direction. Until you do, I'm not sure there's a dick in the world that will fully reconcile your uncertainty and lack of self-admiration and self-respect. You've gotta recapture those things. Find purpose and motivation. I'm no shrink, but that much seems obvious.
While not the perfect analogy, I'll share this, because I do think there's a similarity and something instructive:
My wife has very small breasts. On the top end of "A", or a very very small "B". She grew up in the same world as the rest of us, where TV and media and porn focus was always, overwhelmingly, about big breasted women. That's changed somewhat more recently. But not too much, and what she grew up on was the idolization of big boobs all around her. This was our cultural reference and societal standardization. And girls of course walk around with their breasts in front of them on full display to the world. You can see an A-cup vs a D-cup from 30 yards away. Judgements are made from afar. (But you can't see a guy's dick size in the same way, right?).
So fortunately my wife is extremely secure in who she is overall as a person. Very confident, very self-assured. Not much affected by external shit. And she would never alter her body or do anything with her breasts. Her ex-husband wanted her to. They could afford it, he persistently suggested and encouraged it. To the point where it became a real issue for her, and an issue which was far less about her boobs and much more about his lack of acceptance of her as-is, about his inability to see her...like, really fucking SEE...HER...in her entirety. And not just "accept" those micro-boobs...and her - but to really embrace her in her entirety. Long story short, I grew up in the same big boob culture but I was always somehow fascinated and turned on like crazy by the tiny ones. We're together almost 10 years now. I mostly obsess over those sweet tiny things constantly and I'm still not convinced she totally gets me on that, but she's super aware that my love for those little things is very real. It's only one of a thousand things, though. I found a girl with a thousand things because I wasn't focused on one.
So I'm just suggesting you are a unique person with god knows how many positive traits and abilities and things to offer another person. And I guess you may say, yeah, but it's hard to get the chance for someone to see you so holistically in a world where you need a certain kind of dick to get the ball even rolling. Like jacks or better in poker, you think you need a certain size/capability of dick to just get things out the gate I suppose.
Back to what I suggested, then. Get your mind better in order on who you are and what you offer...in your entirety. And get your dick attended to as best you can. As you know from reading FT, there are so many ways to address an uncooperative dick, and while the right doctor may be an unknown and while finances to afford an implant or whatever may be challenging, I just think you need solid ass direction at this point. A plan. Then...work the plan. Work fucking tirelessly toward your plan, understanding it will take some time. But the really good shit typically does take time and consistent investment of your time and mental capital and does not come to you via hanging your head.
The tough love I can offer (which I know you likely won't want to hear and may well tune out) is simply this: the self-flagellation and self-deprecation in your words and tone...that shit, my friend, is unhelpful. Understandable but toxic and unhelpful. This has become your story that you repeat and repeat to yourself and to others and the problem is: now that's your fucking story. There's always someone with something shinier, bigger, more expensive, faster, etc. So what? It's not competitive dick time. It's be-the-better-version-of-YOU-time. The woe-is-me stuff will never move you forward, man. In fact, it rides you backward and downward.
