Is the d*ck really "Too bomb?"

I want to get into the whole myth surrounding being dickmatized.

Urban Dictionary defines dickmatized as: When the dick is so good you start to catch feelings for the guy. When really you’re just catching feelings for the dick.

When really you’re just catching feelings for the dick.

I think that we can be real in this space and say that we enjoy sex. Apart from connecting with a man or woman you might love a whole lot, the physical aspect by itself is completely satisfying. There are nerve endings between our legs that exist for the sole purpose of providing pleasure. Sex feels good, full stop. But is sex capable of making women crazy as so many men and women claim it is?

Is the dick truly too bomb?

I always like to use my personal experience as a tool of measurement for these kinds of situations. I’m thinking back to the last time I tweeted the words “dick too bomb.” What was I doing, who was I doing it with, and was I being sincere? The last time I said those words, was early 2016. The mess that was my life was finally starting to come together. I was back in school, Zyon and I finally had our own place, and I was working a job that paid me more money than I’d ever seen in my working years.

As the blocks of my life began to build up to something greater, there was a man in my life who took every opportunity to topple what I put up. I swore I loved him. He was everything I wanted because a few times a month he was breaking my back in, or so I thought. It was what I called “the best sex I’d ever had in my life.” Never mind that the man who delivered this “drive-thru dick” was a brokie. He didn’t have his own place. He had a million and one ideas on how to come-up, a few of which involved him using the credit score I had spent years and money cleaning up. When he wasn’t dropping off orgasms, he was ignoring every phone call, text, and attempt to see him outside of the bedroom.

I look back on that relationship and realize that I hadn’t gone clinically insane, I had simply moved the boundary line for what I would and wouldn’t accept. Not because the sex was amazing - it was mediocre and average at best - but because I needed to feel like I had a man, even if it was just a piece of that man. My bonus mom always tells me that for some women, having a piece of a man is better than having no man at all; and that’s true depending on what piece you have. So the piece he provided, sex and the relationship title, filled the void I had at that time; and that made me accept of all of the ways he showed me he wasn’t worth any of the energy I gave him.

There’s truth to be found in the concept that women and men process the act of having sex differently, but regardless, the act itself is not capable of making us lose control. We’re biologically designed to receive and give sex, and to reap pleasure from it. There’s nothing wrong with admitting that it feels good and moving in a way to secure that good feeling on a continuous basis.

I just think that narrative has to be changed. We need to realize how much-unfettered power we give to a reproductive organ. Be realistic about why you do the things you do for him. The Dick is not too bomb. You are always in control and no amount of really great sex will ever take that away from you. You are just moving the goal post, and sometimes, that’s okay.