The sexy line “are you wet?” has a whole new meaning since my bladder weakened and my discharge got thicker almost overnight. Yes, my underwear are wet, but it’s not because I’m horny!
It’s ruined that sexting tactic for me forever.
Sexting is super awkward at the best of times, so if a guy ever asks me if I’m wet, I can’t help but laugh! It makes the situation worse, incidentally—laughing, sneezing, and even coughing are all accompanied by a gush or at best a trickle down below. Being “wet” isn’t a sexy thing for me at all anymore and it’s usually a sign that the guy can’t handle the real wet me. In hindsight, it’s a great way to weed out guys who aren’t right me. Silver linings.
It’s even worse in summer.
The hot weather just exacerbates my wet underwear situation, adding sweat to the mix of everything. At least I can tell myself that other girls probably have damp underwear too, even if their problems are seasonal. It also makes it more acceptable for me to change my underwear during the day in summer—even my boyfriend does that. In winter, I hide my changes a bit more.
It started when I noticed all my black underwear had turned orange.
My weak bladder first came to my attention when I noticed all of the gussets on my black thongs had orange stains on them straight out of the washing machine. After a rather explicit Google, I discovered it was the ammonia in my pee and discharge that was actually bleaching my underwear! Good to know—if I ever need to dye a black garment orange, I apparently have a natural source!
I thought this was something that would happen when I was older. Like, a lot older.
I definitely didn’t expect to experience this in my late twenties—maybe early eighties, more like! It makes me feel quite alone in the situation and that I’d need to visit a nursing home to find someone who can relate. It’s pretty embarrassing but life’s too short to worry about something so insignificant, I guess.
Realistically, I need three pairs of underwear per day.
That’s a lot of clothes washing in underwear alone for one week. I should start buying shares in washing powder and maybe I’ll reap some rewards from my bladder issues. I used to love going commando before this all started but that’s definitely not an option anymore unless I’m able to make a seeping wet crotch on trend and fashionable. I guess anything is possible.
I’m never ready for spontaneous sexy time.
It’s something I have to constantly think about. If I feel the mood is swaying towards an impulsive quickie, I always go in for a swift change of underwear just in case. My mom always taught me to carry a fresh pair of underwear in case I got hit by a bus, and while I’m not sure they’d come in that handy while I’m lying knocked over on the road, that practice has stood me well for my now ever weakening bladder.
I feel very alone in this sticky situation.
Aside from a group of grannies, I’m beginning to feel like I’m the only one in my age group that suffers from this. It would be great if I could just find one other person to laugh about it with—at least we’d both be peeing our pants laughing together. I’ve never spoken to my doctor about it but the internet does tell me it’s a legit problem that other people suffer from too… just not anyone I know!
If it’s bad now, is it going to get worse?
My biggest fear is that it’s going to get worse and I’ll be incontinent by 30! Adult diapers certainly aren’t sexy and it’s not the way I envisioned my life going. My irrational brain tells me this is something I should really be considering but my rational brain reminds me I’m probably being a drama queen.
Strengthening my pelvic floor isn’t something I have time for, to be honest.
I know doing Kegels is discrete and nobody would even notice, but seriously, who has time for that? Even just trying to remember to do them is enough to be exhausting for me. They also make me feel kind of funny. They don’t hurt but it’s definitely not a comfortable feeling. I can perform about five Kegels before I get bored and just give up. It’s diapers and panty liners all the way for me now!
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