There’s nothing more wonderful than the early and promising weeks of fledgling love.  A time when entire days can be wasted in idol conversation and two people become completely immersed in the intrigue of each other.  He is on his best behavior, keen to impress and she primps and preens like a glorious bird, drawing in her mate.  Time passes and secrets are learned, rituals of daily life become shared, comfort settles in.  Sooner or later, if you’re spending more and more time in someone’s company something’s bound to slip and heaven help you if that thing happens to be wind. 

In relationships of yore the very idea of this threw me into a deep state of horror.  I would rather warp my body into any manner of restrictive positions or go an entire day without eating (if the food on offer looked risky) than allow such a thing to happen.  I remember when my best friend and her boyfriend decided to backpack around the world together being utterly shocked at the concept that they had used the bathroom in each other’s company.  That was far too much information for me.  I, on the other hand, was the kind of girl who awoke early, crept to the bathroom, blow-dried my hair, cleaned my teeth, doused myself in fragrance and applied a subtle layer of makeup before returning to bed in order to wake my partner looking ‘effortlessly’ refreshed. 

To me, bodily emissions, be they related to either end of the digestive process, represented the demise of my cultivated perfection.  I would no longer be a woman but rather a human – and what man would want that?  In retrospect these relationships were neither fulfilling, healthy nor successful but damn it if I didn’t exit them with the olfactory grace with which I entered! 

It’s amazing though how life changes when Mr Right (MR) comes along.  Those early days of courting give way to something altogether different and generally equally as lovely.  I’m not sorry to report that my early morning routine has been exchanged for leisurely sleep-ins, nor do I panic at the thought of using the bathroom when MR is home.   New and interesting phenomena have, however, emerged. 

Ours is a relationship I would describe as truly intimate.  The functions and associated sound effects of our bodies are approached generally with humour, sometimes with perplexity but always with a sense of acceptance.  Our noises belong to each other and gross as they may sometimes be that, we say, is life and a far cry from my days as a human contortionist!       

I have experienced a great sense of emancipation within this environment.  Whilst many rituals of daily upkeep remain, I am no longer plagued by the niggling fear of myself and what, indeed, I am capable of.  While MR’s skills in this department undisputedly reign supreme (which is occasionally unfortunate) I too have come to understand that these things are neither faults nor blemishes but part of the package that is him. 

As couples do, MR and I recently hosted a luncheon for two of our dearest ‘couple’ friends.  Somehow, in the course of our conversation the topic of freedom of bodily emissions arose.  We were both surprised and intrigued to discover that not everyone shares our ethos behind closed doors.  Some people, it would seem, are quite the opposite.  The most extreme incidence related was during the birth of one couple’s daughter.  My friend looking to her husband mid contraction to say “I must apologise for anything that might slip out!”  The source of her mortification lay not in the agonies of the birthing process but rather in the possible sound effects.  Even as a former intimacy neophyte I found this hard to believe.   Her point of view was however supported by the other couple, half of which was able to account for the singular occasion he had broke wind in the company of his partner, a release he blamed upon the elusive “fart fairy.” 

“Why?!” MR and I fervently enquired.  Furthermore –“how?!”  When sharing life, love and the stresses of everyday life did these people really have the time and or inclination to refrain?  After all this?   

“It’s a respect thing,” explained one.   

“I just don’t like to,” added another.  “I can’t!” 

As MR and I waved everyone goodbye that afternoon we felt smug.  These people had been together longer than we had and we had often revered them as higher examples of the evolution of coupledom.  It wasn’t until a little later that the questions began to emerge…  Maybe we were missing something?  Was there such a thing as being too natural? 

When I later put this to one of our former luncheon party she was whilst amused, quick to answer “yes!”  There was no debate as far as she was concerned; some things were better left unsaid and preferably un-done.  They were just as well filed under “never happened, never will,” classified both a detraction and undesirable.

As far as MR and I go the question still hangs in the air and perhaps will be answered with time.  Yes with a reversion to a natural state of being certain mysteries are lost but let’s not forget the liberation gained. 

Forever, after all, is an awfully long time to hang on.   

Image By Xopher Smith .  Licensed by Creative Commons