For as long as I can remember, my belly and I have had a love-hate relationship. Well, mostly hate on my part, my belly is just unbothered. It doesn’t care about my plans to get abs or fit into old jeans. It simply flexes when I enjoy good food and sticks around no matter how many crunches or planks I do.
I wasn’t always conscious of it. As a kid, I ate whatever I wanted without a second thought. But at some point, probably during teenage years when social media and unsolicited comments became a thing, I started noticing. The expectation that a flat stomach was the gold standard of fitness and attractiveness slowly crept in. Suddenly, I wasn’t just eating; I was calculating calories, googling “how to lose belly fat,” and hoping that one week of healthy eating would erase years of indulging in late-night snacks.
There is one problem though - I love food. I’m not one of those people who can just forget to eat. No, I look forward to meals like they’re scheduled events. Telling me to eat just a salad feels like a punishment, when there is Jollof rice to be had.
So, I have lived in this constant state of conflict, wanting to enjoy my meals while also wishing for lesser belly fat. I have had my fair share of gym phases, morning jogs, and workout challenges that promised miracles in 30 days. And yet, the belly fat is belly fat-ing.
Over time, I realized something: the world doesn’t stop turning on its axis because of a little belly fat. No one is staring at my stomach as intensely as I think they are. And most importantly, my worth isn’t measured by how flat my belly is.
I still believe in being healthy, in moving my body, and making better food choices sometimes, but I also believe in balance.
So, if you see me ordering dessert after a full meal, mind your business. My belly and I are at peace (for now).
Thanks for reading💕
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