Shy bladder guilt: the woman waiting outside my cubicle

I always feel a bit silly in a public bathroom. I stand in the cubicle thinking, come on, you do this every day, just relax. Then I sit down and it takes ages, or it doesn’t happen at all.

That’s my shy bladder in a nutshell, and what surprises me is how much of it is guilt. If there’s a queue, I’m done for. I picture everyone outside wanting me to hurry up, I tense up, and then I can’t go even more.

The woman by the sinks

Last month I gave up and left a cubicle with a woman waiting outside. I wondered if she felt awkward for being there, and that made me feel guilty, as if I’d put her in that spot. By then two or three other women had come in and finished in the cubicles around mine. Yes, I counted.

Friends make it harder too. I don’t mind them coming with me, and I’d hate for them to feel bad about it. I honestly don’t care if they hear me pee. My head just doesn’t agree. A door with no lock is the same. A friend stands guard, I’m fine with it on paper, and my body shuts down anyway.

Sound is a big one. I pee loudly and sometimes fart at the end, and I can joke about that over dinner. But sitting there with people around, I get properly embarrassed. A full, noisy bathroom is easier, because nobody’s listening. A silent one with someone I know in it is my worst nightmare.

Strangers are often easier than people I know. I’ll never see the stranger again. I’ll see my colleague tomorrow morning.

Telling one friend

Recently I told a friend who’d walked me to the toilets that I get nervous when I feel I have to hurry, even though I know she’s kind and doesn’t mind waiting. I said it was a me-thing, not a her-thing. It helped more than I expected.

I’m still working on it. I’ll probably keep counting the women who went in before me. But one more person knows why I take so long, and that makes the cubicle feel a bit less lonely.