2018 Update: I am learning to be comfortable in my body. I put on weight, so the curves are more curvaceous. I don’t like the stares and attention that my rear attracts. It is not only men, but I am amazed how many women stare. The women are complimentary and say they wished they had my body. I never knew how big my derriere was until a few years ago living in NYC. I had a mirror by the door. I walked in one night and thought someone walked in behind me. It was just my rear in the mirror because the rest of my body was out of frame. That is when I gasped, “Oh my god, my butt is huge!” My hips knocked over a toddler. At any family function, the topic tends to turn to how big my butt is or whether it’s getting bigger. With the weight gain, I started to wear more long skirts and dresses. My college age nieces, “Cover up all you want. People can still see IT!” I am still not ready for all my “jelly,” but I am learning to accept my body while balancing getting to a healthy weight. God gave me this body and all I wanted was to sing like Donna Summer. You can’t always get what you want.
Here’s a little humor for #WCW.
You know you’ve gained too much weight when you bend over and your butt is so big that your pants don’t split down the middle. Instead, my left butt cheek busted out like “let me outta here.” It happened as I was leaving work. I bent over to pick up my keycard and it ripped. Fortunately, I had my coat on. As I walked home, my left cheek enjoyed a breeze like a dog’s wagging tail.
I guess there is such a thing as too “bootylicious.” In the words of Destiny’s Child, “I don’t think you’re ready for this jelly.” Truth be told, I’m not ready for my jelly. I’ve always been a bit embarrassed about my rear luggage because people stare. Staring is not nice!
However, the blokes at Oxford University say women with big boom booms are healthier. One study said that big bottomed women are smarter and birthed smarter babies. Well, I need to be inducted in Mensa and adopted by the estate of Einstein. Now, you must be naturally gifted with a round derriere to be a member of this elite squad – silicon injections don’t count.
Even though my big bottom puts me in a league of its own (Serena Williams and Angela Bassett – holla), I still have lost a pair of good pants. They were my only navy pants and ever so comfy. As I walked home, cheek swaying in wind, I mourned the loss of my pants and started to think about how it was time for me to get in shape – not skinny, healthy. I have accepted the fact that my bum sounds like a Missy Elliott beat – Bbboomp bbboomp bbboomb bbboomb.
I came home and decided to bid my Navy pants a proper farewell. I put on Too Much Booty in Da’ Pants, pumped up the volume, and danced down the hall as I threw the Navy khakis in the trash.
RIP Navy Pants.