Dear “Tiny” Paunch,
You have been a part of my life for as long as I can remember, but you didn’t bother me much until you came back after a year long hiatus. Ah! Those years of a flat stomach, when I could wear anything I wanted – I embraced body-hugging white tops – and I knew that I looked good without having to look at the mirror. You slowly crept back in. It was winter, a busy one at that, and I didn’t notice as you built your abode in my body, inch by inch. Then one summer evening, as I was getting dressed to go out, you revealed yourself in all your glory… all four inches of you jutting out of every dress I tried on. These dresses that stuck to my body in the most flattering fashion were now at least two sizes bigger… on my paunch.
You see, since that fateful evening, I haven’t stopped thinking about you. It has been a year. Our relationship has been a difficult one, but not because you have been too much to handle. If I stand right, you are almost invisible… “almost,” just to me. To others, you are almost not there at all, regardless of my posture! That’s the thing… only I see you. Everybody else just thinks that I need to tone up a bit. You are not extra weight or extra inches to them. Just a part of my body I neglect to exercise.
But, to me. You are extra. To me, you shouldn’t exist. To me, you must be replaced with washboard abs.
You are not a problem, I know. You don’t make me unhealthy, or unattractive by any stretch of the word. But, I don’t like you. I don’t like you because you are a reminder of my Punjabi genes, that come sprinkled with stubborn belly fat. You remind me of how lazy I can be sometimes, when I’d rather tuck my hips in and stand right, rather than do 300 crunches, or wear an A-line dress over a snug one. You remind me of how fragile my fit body is. You remind me of just how easy it would be for me to let go of the discipline that I have worked so hard to cultivate, and allow you to take over. You remind me of all the body types I don’t want to be, that I am terrified of becoming.
Nobody sees it, but you are central to my sense of self, my body image, my self-esteem. I feel monumentally better about myself in your absence.
Your sisters hosted by other women – women in my family – are rather stubborn. Once they find someone to feed on, they don’t leave easily. Especially when they launch their attack after childbirth. Yes, you know this. All the mothers around me are also mothers to your sisters – the not-so-tiny-paunches. And you are a reminder of THAT.
So, my dear tiny paunch, this is my big confession to you: The reason I am so terrified of ever having a child is because I am terrified that you will become a permanent resident in my body. Right now, I know that I can kick you out with a week of sweating it out. But, should my desire for a child become bigger than my fear of you one day, what happens if you become stubborn and big like your sisters?
Who will I become?
Helplessly,
Your victim
