After last week’s short stint at the gym, I feel that my dancing prowess is on trial and I have to defend it with all that I can. Although I am yet to win any medal to prove that my dancing skills are up there, I can confidently say that I am a good dancer. I have seen people watch me with their mouths wide open as I dance and I do take that as enough proof that I can dance. I have enjoyed free drinks courtesy of my good dancing and I have trained some of my drinking buddies a few dance moves. I have been an excellent dancer ever since I was a small kid.
My dad used to train us almost daily by hosting a dancing competition. You know the way Beyonce’s dad used to train her by making her dance in six inch heels for hours on end? That was almost the same thing with my siblings and dad, only that I did not own any high heels. My cracked feet from playing and working in the farm barefoot, would hurt every time we danced on the cold floor. I believe that is the same effect putting on high heels when dancing had. Do not ask about the dancing styles. We all had to perfectly repeat what my dad showed us. I won all the time and I believe it had nothing to do with me being the only girl.
Throughout the years, I have perfected what my dad taught us. That is why I believe me not being able to follow the simple steps at the gym has nothing to do with my skills; the environment was just not conducive for this dancing star. I now fully understand the man who once told me that he could not perform well in bed because my mattress was too comfy. A conducive environment is important for any task to be performed well. That settled; let us talk about my progress.
I am a happy woman. The protective layer around my midriff is slowly melting away and I can proudly say that I do have a waistline. The dresses are getting bigger by the day and most importantly, I am getting the much awaited ‘umekonda’ and ‘you look awesome’ statements from my friends. Everyone who is trying to shed off a few kilos will tell you that such statements give you a high that nothing else can ever give. You always get the worst feeling when after endlessly working out and avoiding all the beautiful fattening foods in this world, you meet your friends and their first question is “Kwani you eat elephants these days?” The feeling gets worse is when all your efforts are met with total silence. You can therefore understand my joy simply because the compliments are being received in large numbers (5 people is quite a large number, right?). I do not care if I still see a few dimples on my butt when I put on some clothes. I am in such a happy place to get frustrated by them. All I do is smile as I talk to them, “You belong to my face, very soon you will be home.”
My greatest fear and problem however, is that I always behave like those women that men always complain about. You meet a woman for the first time and she looks like a goddess. Because she likes you and she wants you to chase after her. She will ensure that she always looks better than the last time you met her. A man will be smitten, leave all his bad habits and marry the goddess only for the woman to totally change. She no longer dresses to kill like before. The weaves in her head have a gestation period of 9 months and it gets worse with time.
I am no different, throw a compliment my way and I get quite comfortable. The ‘umekonda’ word sometimes makes me think that a heap of chicken wings on my plate is the sexiest thing I have ever seen. My mind tries to convince me that I need to reward myself for all the hard work with everything my heart loves.
Criticism results in a totally opposite effect. Tell me I do not know how to dance and I will spend all my free time on YouTube trying to learn the latest dance styles, all the while writing a 30 paged dissertation defending my moves. Call me fat and my huge appetite disappears and I begin working out like my life depended on it.
Do I want people to stop commenting about my progress in large numbers? Of course not. But I still want to be reminded that 76 kgs can break the runway. I will not lie. There are days I want to give up and tell myself that what I have done is enough, but I know I have a long way to go thanks to a number of reminders.
I have been on painkillers daily for the last two weeks because my left leg is in pain beyond comprehension. As I wait for the MRI results to know what is really ailing me, all the doctors and nurses who have handled me, keep bringing up the weight question. At the MRI room, the nurse was worried that the cap that was supposed to cover my knees would pinch me because my knees are quite fat. Thankfully, they did fit but it was a good reminder as to why I embarked on this journey. I was also told that my body is totally deficient of vitamin D. I am so glad the sun is all out. I know I can get that for free. My chest is also enjoying this weather and the new weight.
One kilo down. Thirteen more to go. Let me go dance to that.