The Gas We Passed That Started It All

How One Fart Led to a Full-Blown Revelation About Love, Life, and Letting It All Out

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Stop Holding in Those Farts: How to embrace authenticity in relationships.

Let’s get real for a second: if you’re holding in farts around your partner, are you even in a real relationship? No, seriously. You cannot claim to be building a lifetime of love and understanding while simultaneously clenching your cheeks and praying to the gastrointestinal gods that nothing betrays you. Spoiler alert: it will. And when it does, it will be loud, it will be devastating, and your insides will hate you for it.

We all fart, burp, poop, sneeze, and get colds. We are gloriously disgusting creatures, and there is zero point in pretending otherwise. Now, am I suggesting you let it rip on your first date? Absolutely not. There’s a time and a place for full digestive transparency, and it’s not over the first plate of spaghetti you share. But if you’re in this for the long haul, hiding your bodily functions is like trying to convince your partner you wake up with perfect hair and fresh breath. The jig is up, my friend.

My First Fart in Front of My Husband

I still remember the first time I let one slip in front of my husband. We were dating but already living together—because why waste time? One evening, we were sitting on the patio, and he was in the middle of one of his very detailed stories. You know, the ones that could probably be condensed into a 30-second highlight reel but instead come with unnecessary subplots and side characters.

I had been holding in a fart for what felt like an eternity. The pain was getting unbearable. I tried to wait for a pause, a breath, a comma in his story so I could gracefully excuse myself. But nope. So I let it out, silently praying it would be one of those ninja farts—silent and deadly, but mostly just silent.

It was not.

He didn’t react right away, and for a glorious moment, I thought I had gotten away with it. Then, he finished his story, turned to me, and with the straightest face, asked, “Did you just fart?”

I wanted to disappear. I was redder than a beet at a summer picnic. But I was committed to the long game, so I owned it. Yes. You gave me no chance to escape, and my intestines had no choice.

And do you know what happened? We laughed our asses off. And that was the moment I knew—this was real love.

Stop holding it in—literally and figuratively. 💨😂 Embrace authenticity in your relationships, farts and all! #KeepItReal #LoveIsInTheAir

Embracing the Grossness of Love

Over the last 20 years, there have been countless other embarrassingly human moments—ill-timed sneezes, stomach bugs, unfortunate food choices. And every time, we’ve shown up for each other with understanding, empathy, and occasionally, surgical masks. Because real love isn’t about pretending you don’t have bodily functions; it’s about embracing them and saying, “Wow, that was horrible. I still love you, though.”

The same applies to every other part of a relationship. We don’t do fake compliments. If an outfit is questionable, we say so—but always with the caveat, “If you love it, that’s all that matters.” Because honesty shouldn’t be cruel, but it also shouldn’t be sugarcoated nonsense.

Emotional Flatulence

This philosophy doesn’t just apply to bodily functions. It applies to emotions, too.

Take my daughter, for example. Just the other morning, she had a total meltdown. It started with a missing purse, escalated when she couldn’t find her glasses, and reached its peak when she discovered that someone (ahem, her brother) had eaten all the noodles she planned to take for lunch. Tears. Rage. Declaring that her life was, in fact, over.

And I? I laughed. Not at her, but at the situation—because I know that meltdown. I’ve lived it. We all have. The feeling of being overwhelmed until one tiny thing tips you into the abyss. After I got the giggles out (and apologized), we solved the problem. Cash for hot lunch. Found the purse under the couch. Brother loaned her some blue light glasses. Crisis averted.

That’s how it works. We let each other be human. We let each other freak out and then come together to fix it. We don’t shame, minimize, or dismiss. We just show up, mess and all.

Communicate Before You Erupt

Once upon a time, my overwhelm came out as rage. Not the cute, sitcom-mom kind of frustration where you sigh dramatically and wipe your hands on your apron (as if I even own an apron). No, I mean the full-blown, “why is this house a disaster, and why do I have to do everything myself?” kind of rage. The kind where I’d be one misplaced sock away from an emotional nuclear meltdown.

Why? Because I was running on fumes, trying to manage my own neurodivergent brain while raising other neurodivergents—without even knowing I was neurodivergent myself. I’d get so burnt out from keeping it all together that the slightest visual clutter would push me over the edge. My brain craves order to focus, but I’d get distracted by the chaos, which led to frustration, which led to anger, which led to me ranting about why is there a half-eaten banana on the bookshelf and WHO DID THIS?

And here’s the kicker: I was taught to ignore the mess and just push through as a kid. But guess what? That’s not how my brain works. Forcing myself to function in clutter was like asking a computer to run 87 tabs at once while overheating and also possibly on fire.

So now? I’ve learned to communicate before I hit meltdown mode. Instead of bottling it up and then exploding over a pile of unwashed dishes, I say, “Hey, this mess is making my brain short-circuit. Can we do something about it before I lose my mind?” Simple. Effective. Less dramatic than launching into a monologue about how I’m the only one who cares if this house looks like a crime scene.

Is it perfect? No. Do I still occasionally get irrationally angry at a chair that’s slightly out of place? Absolutely. But it’s progress. And that’s what matters.

The Moral of the Story? Stop Holding It In.

Not just farts—though, yes, those too. But also your fears, frustrations, and feelings. Relationships thrive on honesty, not on clenching and pretending everything is fine.

So here’s my challenge to you: let it out. Be your full, unfiltered self with the people you love. Whether it’s admitting that you’re overwhelmed, telling your partner their new haircut might not be their best choice, or yes, finally just letting that damn fart go.

Because if you can’t be real with your people, then what’s even the point?

Now go forth and fart freely. (You’re welcome.)

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