The Worst Advice I’ve Ever Received

The one problem with being told that you give really good advice is that you actually begin to believe it.

Well, and that over time you begin to doubt your friends’ advice. For very good reasons.

I’ve always been something of a prude, when it comes to boys and relationships and what not. I mean, I keep it in my pants — and probably will keep it in my pants till marriage. (Yes, we still exist. And no, we aren’t punishing ourselves for the sins of our past 9, perhaps sexually-liberated, lives.)

For some reason, keeping it in my pants seems to lead many to the conclusion that I am unaware of the workings of the world in its entirety. I would now try to draw some link between the two concepts, but I’m guessing things may end up getting really awkward or just incomprehensible — just like how I feel about the world’s issue with my prudish-ness.

When I’d kicked a male of extremely questionable character (and intelligence, for that matter) out of my life for good, it came as a shock to many of my friends because I’d kept said questionable characteristics (and intelligence) to myself. I then began to receive sagely words of foresight such as:

‘You aren’t crying?! You’ll cry soon.’

‘You’ll be together soon. I can feel it.’

None of those ever came true, thankfully. I should have realised by then that their feeble attempts at gazing into the crystal ball of my future were a foreshadowing of the atrociously irrelevant levels of their advice.

In the years since, I’ve received lots of unwanted guidance on how best to go about finding a suitable partner. While it’s ranged from ‘put yourself out there!’ to ‘Smile more!’ to ‘Let your hair down — literally!’ to ‘Stop wearing jeans and start dressing like a girl!’, the one bit of advice I can absolutely never get over is:

“You really should date as many guys as you can before settling down with one. Try out lots of different penises and pick the one that fits you the best.”

For those of you thinking that it probably was a figurative way of getting the point across, let me assure you that it was completely literal.

Now, such advice almost knocked the jeans off my legs. I’ll have no P in my V for some time, thank you very much. And I definitely don’t need a fitting room full of penises, for my testing.

It’s times like that when I feel like I’m better off without the advice of others. Especially since, you know, I apparently give such good advice. Maybe what people should have told me was to look for a guy who can give me really good advice; someone who could do it better than me.

Thankfully, I’ve already found him — no thanks to anyone’s advice.

And I didn’t even need to try out his penis.

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