I want to share a real personal and somewhat tragic story with you. Sit down ’cause I don’t want you reading ’bout this walking around on your little fancy phone. This is serious business and it may be something that connects us in a most deep and profound way.

Totsy has some very, very grave concerns over these articles and all this other media concerning women and  body image. I do y’all. I really do. See, I was looking at that BET Awards Show Sunday night, after several days of coming across these disturbing readings. Women place a whole lot of stock in the way they look. And let’s be honest, that’s the best thing some women folk got going for them, which is okay ’cause all of us are gifted in some area one way or another. For other folk,  the  genes are just screwed up, simple as that.

I’m gonna be real honest with you folks, I used to have this deep, dark fear of having big titties. I did. I got me some women folk on my maternal side that’s got huge deposits from mother nature up there and I just didn’t want no parts of it. What sticks out so vividly in my mind is the little story my own mother shared when she was at a wrestling match. No, she wasn’t getting in the ring but she was a spectator and she caught the eye of one of them wrestler men.  He was well over six feet, she said and he was looking down at my mother and got to licking his chops and flat out said to her, “Oooooooooh Mama, you got some big tittieeees!” Well, this was quite embarrassing and further made me desire to be less gifted in my chest area. And I made out okay, I did. But there was this other physical matter that was of grave concern to me when I looked at those women folk in my family too. ‘Cause if it ain’t one thing it’s a damn ‘nother, ain’t it? But all of them had flat asses.

Now me, myself, I was making out fine until my daughter came along and somewhere between delivery and making my way home from the hospital, I lost the junk in my trunk, folks. My immediate thought was, ‘Well shit, I knew breastfeeding took the weight off but had I known my ass would be looking like a damn sidewalk…” Well, you get the picture I’m trying to paint for you. Though in all actuality, I do have a little bit more going on back there still, than those other women folk in the family. But I can’t help fearing the possibilities of another mishap my mother warned me of: “Totsy, take care of your body now, ’cause as you get older, everything in the back shifts to the front.” Now, ain’t that some shit to wear on your thought process when you think you’re gonna be this fine young thing forever? ‘Cause I’ll tell you, if you’ve ever had a sizable trunk, you damn well want to keep it and if you never had it….well, you can’t rightly bitch about it anyway.

I readily admit to passing thoughts of getting some botox to help me out back yonder because if you sit down as much as writers do and you’ve got yourself a family history of flat ass women, this is a serious medical condition. And I’ve noticed that I find myself watching women’s asses now, imagining what it could’ve looked like before it looks like what I’m looking at now. Then, I get to inspecting further at the very bottom of the ass, where you see the panty crotch and it damn near looks like a baby ass is growing down there. Like something is just dropping! Gravity is a sho’ nuff bitch, ain’t it? Now don’t go to thinking  badly about me ’cause I’ve always been a starer and I’m a visual person. I have to use my natural gifts to make observations. Though, one of the greatest comforts I have is knowing I’m not so damn different that I’m the only one with these kinda thoughts. If you don’t think such thoughts, I feel highly obligated to shed light on these matters and possibly make you an ass watcher too.

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