I am married, and dating three men. My husband lives with chronic pain he never complains about. His work is physical. He does it anyway. He must be getting worse. He takes me up on my offers to help with or just do his chores for him. I don't mind. He's a good man. He deserves to have someone always have his back. He's taken up a new hobby. Bookmaking. His work is beautiful and sturdy. He's making side money from his old hobbies. His talent is boundless and I'm so proud of him.
My favorite of the ones I date has done something I've never personally seen anyone else do. He has made his childhood dreams come true. All of them. And I got to be around just in time to watch him get everything he wanted. I'm inspired by him. I'm so proud of him.
Another I date has overcome a rough young adulthood during which he made serious mistakes that landed him in prison for the first eight years of his son's life. Today he has full custody of his son, and a career. When I met him, he was saving for his own barber shop. Currently he is in negotiations to open up his own barber school. I'm so very proud of him.
The other is actually also a barber, and has the same name, and lives in the same city. Weird. They couldn't be more different as men. They wouldn't like each other if they met. Not even a little. This one has no idea what he wants to do yet. He only knows he doesn't want to be a barber forever. He'd like to do something less social. I suggested he open a shop, and just do the books and marketing. He's thinking about it. He's not sure he likes my idea, but he saved up enough to do it anyway since I first mentioned it to him. He figures this way, if he realizes what he wants, he won't have to wait to get started. There are people who rely on him. His friends and relatives. They call with all kinds of problems, at all kinds of hours. Broken cars. Dislocated joints. Cashflow issues. Trouble with a woman. Trouble with a man. He gets up, gets dressed, helps them all. The only thing that can stop him from taking care of the people he loves is pet dander. He can't be around dander at all. At all. He takes his commitment to people seriously, and I'm pleased to be among those he cares for. I'm proud of him too.
I don't see myself sitting around with anyone in person discussing any of the penises in my life. I just do not. It's not something I've done in a very long time. I wasn't proud of those penises I discussed ages ago, but I was enjoying them. They weren't all big, but hardly any were small. I enjoyed them all, with extremely rare exceptions. The disappointing ones? I didn't talk about their dicks (with one weird exception) but rather the disappointing things they did.
I cannot relate to pride in a penis.
