She Told Him He Was Above Average. He Isn't, She Says.

The situation is straightforward. They've been together a few months. He asked how he compared to her previous partners. She dodged. He pushed, said he wanted full transparency. She told him he was a bit above average. According to her, he's the smallest she's been with, and by a noticeable margin.

She says it doesn't matter to her. He's attentive, he plans surprises, he takes care of her in ways that matter more. But the lie is eating at her, because he asked for the truth and she promised to give it.

The case for the lie is simple: some truths serve no one. Commenters told her to take the information to her grave, to never mention it even to a best friend. The consensus was near-universal: he didn't actually want to know. He wanted reassurance, and she gave it to him.

Several people pointed out that men know their own measurements. If he's not above average, he knows she lied, and if he hasn't said anything, he's accepted it. One commenter noted that the alternative would have been worse — that if she'd told the truth, he'd be posting his own version of this story, unable to get past it. The lie, in this view, was an act of care.

But the case against the lie is harder to dismiss than it first appears. She didn't just spare his feelings. She also revealed something about her own hierarchy. She said she'd take a sweet guy over good dick any day. Not big dick — good dick. Multiple commenters caught that. If size doesn't matter, why frame it as a trade-off? Why position his other qualities as compensation rather than as the thing she actually wants?

One response asked directly: does he satisfy you? Because if the answer is no, the lie isn't kindness. It's delay. Another pointed out that honesty isn't just about what you say in the moment. It's about whether the relationship can survive a truth that matters. If this one can't, that's information too.

The thread split cleanly. Most people said the lie was fine, even necessary. A smaller group said it wasn't the lie that was the problem — it was what the lie was covering for. If she genuinely doesn't care, why does she keep talking about what she's willing to overlook?

The question she didn't ask, but probably should have: why did he push? He said he wanted transparency. But people who want transparency don't usually stop at reassurance. They want to know if the reassurance is true. And if he suspects it isn't, the lie hasn't protected him. It's just postponed the conversation.

She's asking if she should tell him the truth now. The answer depends on what the truth actually is. If it's just a measurement, no — there's no upside. But if the truth is that she's settling, or that she thinks of intimacy as something she's willing to compromise on because he makes up for it elsewhere, that's a different problem. And it's one the lie won't fix.

The lie might have been kind in the moment. But kindness that requires permanent silence isn't kindness. It's a bet that the truth will never matter enough to come up again. And in a relationship where someone has already asked for full transparency, that's a bet with short odds.

If the relationship is built on him not knowing something he specifically asked to know, it's built on less than either of them thinks it is. The lie didn't protect the relationship. It just made the foundation smaller.

Would you tell the truth if your partner pushed for it, or take it to your grave?