Buttocks is in my family. The women have it in abundance. The men have more than a normal man will need.
It’s something that we had to live with.
We didn’t play any part in getting plenty of it. It’s just our genes dictating how our behind should look like.
In school, they laughed at me. I attended boys’ school. On weekends, the seniors will use me for amusement.
Even when I’m sleeping peacefully in my bed, they’ll come and wake me up and ask me to model for them to see. If I walk and I don’t shake it, they will descend on me and beat the hell out of me.
I’ve been aware of my asset since then. I’ve been in relationships that later failed. Those relationships didn’t fail because of what’s behind me. They failed because of other reasons. I remember Erica and how she used to tease me.
She said, “God, this is not fair ooo. How can my boyfriend have all these goods and I’ll have a wedding plate behind me as buttocks?” We laughed about it and left it there.
A year ago I met my current girlfriend, Daisy. She’s one of the prettiest women I’ve ever had. Starting a relationship with her wasn’t hard because both of us loved to be in each other’s presence.
She has a funny way of twisting events and I also have a little sense of humour so the two of us gelled from the word go. I proposed one day and she accepted. We were fine, living a normal love life as every couple deserves.
The issue started when I visited her house the very first time. His father didn’t hide it. He said, “What is a man like you doing with all this behind you?” We all laughed about it. I explained that it was in our family.
He asked, “The women too have it?” I said, “Yeah, theirs are even worse.” Her mother said, “Then waist pains would be rampant in your family paaa.” No hard feelings. It was all fun because I expected it.
It got to a time when I realised the joke was getting to Daisy. She started talking about it without the laughter. She will say something like, “Waaa see all the men around here, who has your kind of behind?” She wouldn’t walk with me when we were in town.
She will either be ahead of me or behind me. I asked questions. She said, “Not that I’m worried ooo but I don’t like the fact that it’s the first thing people see when they meet you.”
I asked her, “So what should I do about it?” She said, “I can’t tell you what to do about it. It’s yours so you know how to deal with it.”
Gradually, the joy in our relationship waned. We stopped going to places together.
That means, we stopped having fun together. The whole thing got worse because of her senior sister.
That girl never stopped talking about behind. Immediately she sees me coming, she will start making a rhythm out of how my behind was shaking.
She’ll go like “Ta-bum-ta-bum-ta-bum-ta-bum…” and all the while laughing about it. She made it sound like some sort of friendly joke but it got to a point where it became uncomfortable.
I told Daisy about my worries. I asked her to tell her sister to stop it. She said, “Why don’t you tell her yourself?” We were arguing a lot.
We were fighting more than we used to. One day, I asked her, “Are you still into this or your mind has changed?” She said, “I can’t answer that question.” I asked, “Why can’t you answer?” She said, “I can’t because I don’t see why I should answer such a question.” I said, “It’s obvious.”
You’re no longer in love again but you’re scared to say it. She didn’t say anything. What she didn’t say was even louder than what she said. I got the message but I was waiting for her to say it right in my face.
One afternoon I visited her house. Immediately her sister saw me she started doing Ta-bum-ta-bum.” I screamed at her; “Stop doing that, it’s no longer funny.
“Why do you take pleasure in making fun of people?” Her sister got angry but didn’t say anything to me. When Daisy came out, she screamed, “How dare you scream at my sister? If you don’t like to play with her again, there’s a better way to go about it than scream on her.” She wouldn’t allow me to talk.
She walked away and said, “If you don’t want them to talk about it, then don’t carry it here, simple.”
For three days, she didn’t talk to me. I called her sister to apologise. She also said sorry to me. She agreed not to do that ta-bum-ta-bum again.
We were good. But nothing I did or said made Daisy come back to normal. She wasn’t talking to me like she used to.
She was acting reserved and unresponsive. I asked her, “Should I give you some space?” She said, “I don’t need any space. Just let me have my peace of mind.”
As I’m writing this, I’ve come to the conclusion that we are no longer together. We haven’t talked for a week and my last message to her wasn’t answered.
I know some people are like that. When the end comes, they are scared to talk about it.
They will rather ghost you than talk about it with you. I get it so I won’t force it. But all I’m hoping for is that one day she’ll realise how good I’ve been to her and come back to her senses.