Some people fall in love with songs, cities, or certain foods. Me? I fell in love with a word: penis. There, I said it. It’s my favorite word in the English language, and I’m not ashamed to admit it. Growing up, I had what you could call “penis envy.” Not so much because I wanted one myself (although, let’s be honest, the convenience of peeing standing up does sound handy), but because the word itself just stuck with me. Say it out loud—penis. It’s sharp at the start, round at the end, a little silly, a little serious. It’s a word that can be clinical and dirty at the same time, depending on how you say it. And to me, that’s magical.
It’s not just the word I adore—it’s everything it represents. Penis is one of those words that makes people giggle, flinch, or roll their eyes. That’s part of why I like using it. It’s a social litmus test: if you can’t handle the word, chances are you struggle handling the conversation that comes with it. I grew up fascinated by this strange power of language, the way “penis” could make adults turn pink, kids laugh, and teachers stumble through biology class. Meanwhile, I was just sitting there thinking: Why is everyone so weird about this?
Now, let’s be real. My love for the word has a lot to do with my love for the thing itself. And here’s where I confess something that often shocks people: I genuinely don’t understand how anyone who loves penis doesn’t automatically love giving blow jobs. To me, it feels like an extension of appreciation. You like it? Then why wouldn’t you want to worship it, hold it, taste it, enjoy it? I get that everyone’s preferences are valid, and no one has to do anything they don’t want to do—that’s a baseline of good sex. But personally, I’ll never quite wrap my head around the disconnect. For me, loving penis means celebrating it in every way possible, and yes, that includes the art of oral.
Of course, I know not everyone will agree, and that’s fine. Sexuality is as diverse as fingerprints, and everyone’s entitled to their own likes and dislikes. But here’s what I hope: that we can talk about it more openly, without shame. That people who love penis (or any body part, really) can admit it freely, without stigma, without blushing. Words like “penis” should be celebrated, not whispered like a dirty secret. Because for me, it’s more than a body part. It’s a word that made me laugh as a kid, sparked curiosity as a teen, and now, as an adult, reminds me that language and desire are both things to be enjoyed unapologetically.
So here I am, pen is in hand, writing my little love letter to “penis.” My favorite word, my favorite shape, my favorite topic of giggly conversations and intimate ones alike. I might not convince the world to share my enthusiasm, but that’s okay. Some people collect stamps, some obsess over sports, some fall for cats. Me? I’ll always be the person who just really, really loves penis—and proudly says so.