I grew up in a family where dad was the only male being in the home. My two sisters and I always watched mom as she prepared for work every morning. We admired her careful procedures
to get herself looking glamorous. So throughout my childhood, as an adolescent, and now as a young lady I developed an intimacy with my body. I pampered every part of my body more so Miss Tummy.
Now Miss Tummy and I always frowned at each other in the mirror. She somehow made a big show of herself, always standing out like a little protruding ball and this got me so frustrated. I decided to work out a remedy that would get me a wasp stomach and out do the all so outstanding Miss Tummy.
My preliminary steps to achieve this were rather painful. I was advised to fore go all major meals in the day and eat just a little non-fat food in the night. I braved many long days surviving only on water until I gave up on this self inflicted starving. Next I was told that if I could regularly tie my stomach
tightly to the size I desired, it would actually obey and subdue. Friends sneered at me and others pitied me thinking I was slowly losing my mind over my obsession for a wasp waist.
It was not long before I realized that I would not stand the discomfort of sleeping with a tight, very tight cloth wound around my stomach.
When I got to campus the pressure was even worse. There were all these slender nice looking girls that I envied. I looked at Miss Tummy and sympathised with her because whatever I was going to do to her this time was severe. “I know this Chinese herbal tea that works like magic but…” I did not wait to hear the ‘but’ part of the remedy that Jules was telling me about.’ Works like magic! ‘, that was the most important word Jules had said to me. The next day I sat in the lecture theater fantasising about my yet to be wasp waist. Wait a minute; was that thunderous noise from my tummy? And what’s with the
pungent smell of bad eggs? Did someone fart? A few minutes later, I was running to and from the toilet. I watched as poor Miss Tummy shrunk and
drew inwards. Had it not been for the persistent diarrhoea, the dizzy spells and the malnourished look, I would have popped champagne in celebration of my small tummy.
After that horrible experience I decided that Miss Tummy had staged a successful war against me. I put up my guns. I surrendered.
In the privacy of my room I sat down and contemplated about my miserable situation. If I could not beat Miss Tummy I had to join her, I had to accept her as she was because she was all I had and her
persistence showed she wasn’t going anywhere. If all my drastic remedies had failed me, then I had to opt for regular excising .May be then miss Tummy would be kind enough to let me be and trust me I
haven’t looked back. Miss Tummy may not be as flat as I fantasised but she is nevertheless appealing. My fight has been aided by a controlled dieting, regular gym time and knowing the appropriate attire for my body shape. Miss Tummy and I now have a good ongoing relationship, her
tendencies of being all so outstanding are no more and I love her for