How Accidentally Farting During Sex Might Bring You Closer
I was recently having a conversation with a friend about new relationships. We began talking about avoiding sex when your stomach is full of gas because there is always that small possibility you might accidentally fart. It sounds funny when you say it out loud, but it also says something about the pressure many of us carry into our sexual experiences.
The pressure to be “sexy” often asks us to hide our humanity. We enter sex with an unspoken expectation that we should look desirable, smell good, move the right way, make the right sounds and never interrupt the mood. Somewhere along the way, many of us have learned that we can only be erotic if we maintain a certain image of ourselves. But our bodies were never designed to uphold that image. They sweat, they make noises, they cramp, they shake, they burp and sometimes they fart. Yet the moment one of those things happens during sex, shame can arrive almost instantly because it disrupts the fantasy of being perfectly composed.
But I do not actually think the fart is the interesting part. What interests me is what happens next.
The instinct may be to withdraw, apologise or become tense. Try to recover as quickly as possible, or hope the other person ignores it. It is easy to experience these moments as embarrassing, as though they somehow make us less desirable or less erotic.
But I wonder what would happen if we responded differently.
What if, instead of moving into shame or withdrawal, we laughed together? Not laughing at one another, but laughing with one another. There is something deeply connecting about shared laughter. It shifts us out of watching ourselves and back into connection. Instead of becoming focused on how we are being perceived, we return to the felt experience of being with another person.
From a nervous system perspective, laughter is one of the ways we support the ventral vagal social engagement system. Alongside warm facial expressions, eye contact and vocal tone, shared laughter is associated with states of connection and safety. It does not magically erase embarrassment, but it can soften it. It reminds our bodies that we are still connected to the person in front of us. The moment becomes less about hiding what is human and more about allowing ourselves to be met in the whole experience.
I think this is where intimacy often grows. Not in avoiding the moments that feel unexpected, but in discovering that they can become moments of deeper connection. That someone can witness our humanness and move towards us instead of away from us. That we can stop trying to preserve an image and instead allow ourselves to be fully seen.
Maybe the moments we fear will make us less desirable are not the moments that create distance at all. Maybe it is our response to them that matters. If we choose laughter over shame, we create an opportunity for deeper connection. Not because farting is inherently intimate, but because laughing together reminds us that we do not have to stop being human in order to be erotic.
And perhaps that is one of the most beautiful things about sex. It is not simply being desired when we feel polished, composed and attractive. It is being met with warmth, affection and connection when life inevitably interrupts the fantasy.
Farts and all.
In my upcoming workshop, Building an Embodied Erotic Life, we will explore how to create a more connected and present sex life through practices that support awareness, communication and deeper intimacy.
Together, we will learn to notice how we feel, express what we need and connect with ourselves and others in a more meaningful way.
Join the waitlist for the September workshop.
