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Dear Foreskin…

Dear Foreskin…

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I’m old enough to remember high school change rooms and the first realisation that there was a variety of different looking genitals between our legs. Looking back, it’s probably one of the first places many of us started comparing our bodies with other people’s. And those comparisons don’t necessarily disappear when we grow up.

Circumcision has been practised for thousands of years, yet conversations about its psychological impact remain surprisingly complicated and often not talked about. Over the past few years, I’ve noticed more men turning up in my clinic and talking about it.

Somewhere between culture, religion, medicine and bodily autonomy sits a very personal experience that deserves a little more curiosity and potentially less judgement.

Circumcision is one of the oldest known surgical practices. Historical evidence suggests it was performed in ancient Egypt more than 4,000 years ago, while its significance within Judaism stretches back millennia though in some cultures the opposite was observed. For example, in ancient Greek and Roman cultures, the intact foreskin was often associated with male beauty and modesty. Funny how what’s considered normal can change depending on where and when you were born.

What may have begun largely as a religious or cultural practice eventually found its way into Western medicine. During the nineteenth century, circumcision was promoted by some doctors as a supposed remedy for masturbation, sexual urges and various physical and psychological ailments. I wonder in looking back over time if this says more about society’s discomfort with sexuality and our bits than it does about medical science?

By the twentieth century, plenty of babies were being circumcised in countries including Australia and the United States, often justified through arguments about hygiene and disease prevention. Today, the medical evidence is more nuanced, and routine circumcision of healthy infants remains ethically debated. And yet we still hear the line “well that’s what dad had so you got the same.”

What About the Psychological Impact?

And maybe this is where things get uncomfortable.

For many people, circumcision happened when we were an infant, and perhaps there is no conscious memory of the procedure. However, the absence of conscious memory doesn’t necessarily mean an experience was without physical distress. Infants experience pain, and untreated pain can produce measurable physiological and behavioural responses.

That said, we need to be careful about the potential links we might make. Research has not established that as babies, circumcision routinely caused long-term psychological trauma or attachment difficulties. If anything, I suspect it speaks to the realisation as an adult of what was done to our bodies when we were young.

As a psychotherapist, I’m particularly interested in how people come to understand experiences involving their bodies, especially when those experiences occurred before we had any capacity to consent.

For some, circumcision is simply part of who they are, something we have never questioned. For others, discovering that part of their anatomy was permanently altered without their permission can stir up feelings of anger, grief, resentment or a loss of bodily autonomy.

And I don’t think it is my job to tell either person how they should feel.

Body Image, Sexuality and Identity

Our relationship with our genitals is rarely just anatomical. It’s shaped by culture, relationships, sexual experiences and the messages we absorb about what bodies should look like.

Some circumcised men report feeling perfectly comfortable with their bodies and sexual functioning. Others describe concerns about appearance, sensitivity or sexual pleasure. Research examining sexual outcomes gives us mixed findings. I would suggest perhaps, that you do you! In other words, what turns you on and feels good, should be your thing.

There can also be a bit of a mind bend between cultural belonging and personal autonomy. You can love your cultural traditions and still feel pretty pissed off about what happened to your body.

The Question of Consent

Perhaps one of the most challenging discussions these days is about consent.

We increasingly recognise bodily autonomy as central to psychological wellbeing. Think consent education, ongoing consent etc. Yet parents and carers often make medical decisions for children who cannot consent. The ethical question becomes whether a permanent, non-urgent procedure should be performed before someone can participate in that decision.

Religious freedom, parental responsibility, cultural identity and children’s rights all enter the conversation. That’s a lot of layers… There isn’t a simple psychological answer that resolves these competing values.

What matters is creating room for respectful discussion without automatically characterising parents as harmful or dismissing those who experience distress because of their bodies. It’s also about loving what we’ve got!

Making Space for Different Experiences

I’m yet to meet two people who feel exactly the same way about their bodies, and circumcision is no different.

For some, it represents belonging, tradition and connection. For others, it might be about losing a choice they never got to make. And for others, it might be strongly connected to sexuality, arousal or simply how they feel about their bodies.

I suspect plenty of men have never given their foreskin, or lack of one, much thought at all. Fair enough.

But increasingly, I’m hearing from men who have. Some are curious, others angry, and some are trying to understand why something that happened decades ago has suddenly become important to them.

I don’t think we need to turn every childhood experience into trauma. Equally, I don’t think we should dismiss someone’s distress simply because a decision was made with good intentions.

And if talking about foreskins makes us a little uncomfortable, perhaps that’s something worth getting curious about too.

About the Author

Andrew Macdonald is a PACFA registered clinical psychotherapist at Jefferson Place, providing individual, couples and relationship counselling. His therapeutic approach explores the emotional and relational patterns that influence how we connect with ourselves and others. Jefferson Place offers online counselling to clients across Australia.

Learn more about Jefferson Place