Upon initially meeting me everyone
will notice that there is an obvious attribute I couldn’t deny if I tried. I am
a hippy chick. By hippy I mean that the largest part of my body resides below
my waist. This would include the thighs, hip, butt area. I’ve had both hips and
thighs since the third grade when Mother Nature decided it was time for me to
carry what some times adds up to the weight of the world on my lower body.
Like
most females whose body blossoms before their minds or spirits I was both
confused and insecure about their arrival. All of the other girls where still sticks
and here I was more of a bowling ball. I wore baggy jeans and big shirts in an
attempt to use the tomboy fad as a tool to mountains. I would never go to the
chalkboard without a jacket to prevent the visible load I was burdened to bear.
My awkward period lasted about 12 years. During this time I was smart and
focused on being the smartest to compensate for what I thought was the wrong
body type. I relied on being quiet and introspective. I never tried to stand
out for anything other than academics. For the most part I just blended in and
it worked for me well into my sophomore year of college.
Then
came my 20s’. Along with dabbling in alcohol and parties, forgetting about my
studies, my views on my hips and thighs changed drastically. The views of
others changed as well. Women still saw them as something to ridicule or make
fun of but men…..well, men were different. Men fell victim to their existence. Suddenly
the part of my body constantly scrutinized was sought after. You see, a big girl often gets a pass if she is curvy in the right
places. In my case, God made sure I had more than enough curves to make men
take notice.
So it
was in college that I learned about the power of a woman’s frame. An ample pair
of breasts could get bills paid, a round bottom could get a new wardrobe, and a
nice pair of hips and thighs could get a combination of both. I learned that
the first step to manipulating the opposite sex was realizing that I was born
with the very things that make them weak. So now the same trunks I hid in my
youth became my prized possession.
Fast
forward to the present. I see with a new decade comes a new meaning to the
bottom heavy woman. This week I’ve had 3 different men declare that I would be
the mother of their children. I asked one of them if I had an invisible sign on
me begging for babies. He replied “Yes. It’s on your hips”. You see, the very
same hips went from an intrusion on childhood to the introduction to
sensuality. Now at 30 they are the foundation of fertility. To a man who wants
to build a legacy by starting a family, these hips and thighs serve as a source
of hope for a future that will outlive its founders.
I spent
a decade not understanding their purpose. I spent another decade not respecting
it. Now that I am growing up (not just getting older) I can appreciate the fact
that the mounds beneath my belly button are more than enticement for carnal
episodes. They are much more than stallions, thunder thighs, or ham hocks. They
are the very gateway to my descendants.
As you can probably tell, I’m no longer embarrassed by my full figure. I am also no longer interested in sharing them with the most charming bidder. I am now in awe of what they are and all they have made me become. They taught me that with a woman comes a great responsibility. I believe I am now beginning to be prepared for all that transformation entails and I humbly accept the challenge.
