Yes, I know what you must be thinking… That’s impossible! Well, I am the living proof that, sadly (and I say sadly because I SUFFERED), it is definitely possible.
When I started dating my boyfriend, we were like a 2 in 1 pack. We both lived in our respective Uni accommodations with en-suite bathrooms, but I “moved in” to his, because it was bigger and better. I mean.. obviously.
But the point is that we were ALWAYS together, and we did everything together, well, almost everything.
The thing is, it’s not like I didn’t want to poop because I was embarrassed to do so with him on the other side of door… Actually yes it was.
But only at first! My plan only backlashed when, a week later, I was finally by myself for the first time and I was feeling as bloated as a lactose intolerant after raiding a cheese factory and, to my surprise, I couldn’t poop.
Bear in mind this was like a week after I *purposely* decided not to. And when I couldn’t take it anymore, it’s like my intestines said: tough shit.
It was very tough to shit, indeed.
I was literally in so much pain and my boyfriend (we’re still together years later btw) started noticing that I never went for number 2 and he made jokes about how I was ‘magic’ or whatever. The girl that doesn’t poop.
Bitch, here I am looking up on google if I could die from constipation while you’re somehow ‘glorifying’ me for not pooping.
I even ended up buying a freaking enema on Amazon that, thank god, I never ended up using. Just from thinking about it I got flashbacks from being a baby and having a suppository up my ass.
My intestines noticed my intentions and decided they didn’t want that to happen either so, after two weeks of cosplaying Balloony from Phineas and Ferb, I finally pooped.