My dating life has become a social experiment at this point. I have gone on morning dates, lunch break dates, evening dates, weekend dates, and the result is always the same. Different men, same problem. Sometimes I feel like these men held a secret conference somewhere and agreed to come and test my patience collectively.

FOLLOW US ON WHATSAPP CHANNEL TO RECEIVE ALL STORIES IN YOUR INBOX

I know the kind of woman I am, which is why some of these men approaching me still shocks me. Some of them are broke and lazy. Men with dreams bigger than their work ethic. They talk about becoming billionaires while waiting for manna to fall from heaven. Others cannot hold a conversation to save their lives. You ask a simple question and suddenly you are carrying the discussion like a group project.

Then comes the famous question. “What do you bring to the table?”

What table exactly?

The only table I know is the one God prepares before me in the presence of my enemies. Please.

Some of these dates are so painful that maintaining eye contact becomes a spiritual exercise. You sit there fighting for your life because the attraction is simply not attracting.

Now, on the other side of this chaos, there is this friend of mine who has been asking us to become something serious. A real gentleman. The kind of man who walks you to your car, opens the door for you, waits till you drive out before leaving. The kind who waits for you to order before he orders. Morning check-ups, afternoon check-ins, evening calls. Thoughtful. Intentional. Kind.

And they always say women should marry kind men.

But, every single time he proposes and asks me to think about it, there is only one thing standing between me and that answer.

One thing.

Just thinking about it makes my skin crawl. My heart starts racing. My palms get sweaty. I lose sleep over it.

I am naturally affectionate. I kiss a lot. I am clingy. I love listening to my man talk while I stare at him like he invented language itself. That is the kind of woman I am, so this is not something I can simply ignore.

This particular thing has been a turn-off for me since childhood, although I do not know the medical name for it. The best way I can describe it is this: the moment this man speaks for three seconds, there is this thick, whitish, slimy liquid gathering around his lips and inside his mouth. Almost like foaming.

It genuinely turns my stomach.

The painful part is that this man checks every other box. Intelligence. Kindness. Emotional maturity. Stability. Consideration. Everything.

I even stopped judging and started researching because I wanted solutions. Instead, all social media has done is bombard me with bad breath advertisements.

From the stories he has shared about his past relationships, I strongly suspect women left because of this same issue. They probably could not bring themselves to say it, so they created excuse after excuse and disappeared.

But I figured it out almost immediately.

That thick whitish slimy thing is the deal breaker.

And it hurts because this is genuinely a good man.

So if anyone knows what causes this or how it can be treated, please help me. I am begging at this point because I cannot imagine entering a marriage where I cannot comfortably kiss my husband. When kissing is literally one of my love languages.

As someone who kisses like water, this is a serious issue for me.

Men Don’t Like It When Women Do The Paying

If not for this one thing, I genuinely would not let this man go. Help a girl.

—Nuela

This story you just read was sent to us by someone just like you. We know you have a story too. Email it to us at [email protected]. You can also drop your number and we will call you so you tell us your story.

#SB<>