Rob Mills was insecure about the size of his 'manhood'. He says it makes him a better lover.

The following is an excerpt from Putting on a Show by Rob Mills, a book about manhood, mates, and mental health.

Perhaps because I didn’t have any sisters, I grew up super scared to be around girls. When I was very young, I thought girls were beautiful, otherworldly creatures, and I had no idea what made them tick. I found it much safer to hang around with my mates – kicking footies, playing basketball, being idiots. Girls seemed smarter, more assured, less smelly.

To use the term very loosely, I had my first girlfriend when I was in Grade 5. I was a toy boy, I suppose, because she was in Grade 6. I can’t remember really pursuing her. She seemed to adopt me and, because I didn’t want to upset her, I went along with it. Much to my relief, the relationship didn’t last long. There was no official breakup, as far as I recall. We just drifted apart. From her perspective, I suspect she found me one-dimensional and wasn’t overly impressed with my talent at making fart noises with my armpit.

I had my first pash in Year 7. It happened at a party, in a ‘truth or dare’ situation. Despite the audience, I can remember how warm and pleasant it felt. I could get into this, I thought, even as I worried that I was doing it wrong and kept taking peeks at the girl to see if she was enjoying herself. By this time, there were more girls in my life, and I was becoming a lot more comfortable around them. I was lucky enough to go to a co-ed school, where we all just became mates. We were often all catching up together, hanging out and having sleepovers at each other’s houses – not orgies, to be clear, just as friends – and this was when I started to feel confident around girls. They began to lose their mystery, and I could see our similarities as much as our differences. They became friends, equals, and I loved it.

I don’t remember ever getting an official birds-and-the-bees-type chat from my parents, but I’m always thankful that my dad and stepdad were not those blokey alpha males who might be inclined to wink at their sons and say stuff like ‘So, ya gonna f**k her?’ Dad was very kind and gentle towards women, towards everybody, in fact. My stepdad was respectful of women too, and I’m grateful for that, because I think that flowed down to me.

I was sixteen when I had sex for the first time. I’d been dating my girlfriend for maybe three months by the time it happened. That seemed like a really long time to wait. She was good at art, and great at being beautiful. My hormones were firing, and the dopamine was maxing out. It was exhilarating in the way young love can be. We’d rounded first and second base by this time, we’d bought soft toys for each other for Valentine’s Day, and written cards and poems. We slipped notes in each other’s lockers – hers sprayed with Impulse, mine with Lynx.

Anyway, my dad was away for the night, so she came over – which was a big deal because we knew what was on the cards – and it happened. I remember that a movie called Quick Change, starring Bill Murray and Geena Davis, was on TV in the background. That first time for me was as awkward and fumbling as most first times are, I’d expect, and I had to deal with all those uncertainties that men deal with. Was I doing it right? Was she enjoying it? Was my dick big enough?

Now that’s something Aussie blokes probably don’t talk about enough because for a lot of men it’s a deep insecurity. We spend a lot of time with our dicks out at footy clubs and cricket clubs and urinals, and you can’t help but compare yourself to others. As a young bloke, you can easily start to get insecure. And once you do, you want to keep your jocks on in the showers after sport. This makes you even more self-conscious.

Anyway, I was always pretty self-conscious and insecure about my dick from the start, but I think it had an upside (no pun intended). It made me conscious about my performance in bed. I was like, I may not have the biggest dick, but I can make up for it by becoming a good lover, by being amazing in the bedroom.

So, I’ve always striven to be a considerate lover (even if, like a lion, I just want to fall asleep the moment I’m done). I think most men are open to becoming better lovers, and to suggestions from their partners on how they can get better, but I don’t think there’s enough discussion that takes place between couples about this sort of thing. For many people, sex can be fun and playful and adventurous, but for others it’s weighed down by insecurity and even shame. By and large, when it comes to sex, we’re pretty uptight in Australia, I reckon. Perhaps it’s a legacy of our colonial forebears, the British, who don’t exactly have reputations for being passionate lovers. Whatever is behind it, it means we don’t necessarily make the most out of sex. And when we don’t, that can render the whole thing pedestrian and lacking in fun. It’s this sense of shame that means we can’t even tell our loved ones – let alone someone we just met – what we want, out of fear of embarrassment.

Image: Affirm Press. 

Putting on a Show is now available for purchase. You can buy it online, here.

Feature Image: Instagram @robmillsymills.