At the beginning of 2010, I had 17 pounds to lose. Between January and February, I lost 7 pounds by dieting and going to the gym, but then quickly put on five of those “dieting” pounds near the end of February. So, at the beginning of March I had 15 pounds to lose.

Regularly climbing Mount Tatekoshiyama and a new diet have me 5 pounds from my goal. I am on the homestretch. It is kind of cool because I’ve been carrying around that extra weight for about 4 years.

This morning, I was looking in the mirror, looking at how things are coming along and heard myself praying a ridiculous prayer: “Dear Lord God, could you please help me out so that when I lose the last 5 pounds I lose them in my stomach and nowhere else.” Ridiculous because there’s oil gushing in the gulf, wars looming, and serious problems going on in the world. Yet here I am here asking God to shift his focus over to my stomach.

However, I think it is worthwhile to mention why I felt moved to pray that prayer.

A little backstory:

Several years ago, I put on more weight than I have ever put on in my life. I put on 25lbs! One day, I made up my mind to lose the weight. I just decided to do a boxing workout and cut out sugary drinks. A month of boxing got me a 25lb weight loss. The weight just flew off. I remember saying to someone, “That weight must have just been dying to come off me because it came off pretty fast.” I wasn’t very particular about the diet part either. Sometimes I cheated and had sugary drinks or whatever else. You can get awawy with stuff like that when in your 20s.

I was really enjoying my slim, trim new figure until one day I was in a washroom (Canadian word for restroom) in Toronto. I looked in the mirror then turned to the right to examine my profile. I knew something was missing, but I couldn’t put my finger on it.

Then, it suddenly hit me: “Where’s my ass?”

That’s when I realized where the 25 pounds had gone. I hadn’t lost a little weight here and there. By all appearances, 90% of that weight loss came out of one important area.

Now, you may think I’m exaggerating here, but let me explain. Back in my teens and early 20s, I had a behind that was like a National Institution. It was a truly landmark achievement in assitecture. Little did I know, it had been written up in several tour books and destination guides. “If you’re ever in the Peel Region, do try to stop by and have a look at Carol’s behind. It’s worth the drive to Brampton.”

I didn’t think about it or appreciate it until it was gone. Picture being a Black woman and waking up to discover your behind is gone. Well, I don’t even know how to explain it you. As far as I’m concerned, technically speaking, I wasn’t even Black for two years. Wouldn’t even show my face at Caribana or my local West Indies store.

I thought no one in the world really understand until I met an English teacher in Okinawa who told me about a similar experience.

For her, it was pretty traumatic.

But thanks to the miracle of carbs, I was reinstated into the Black community in the latter part of 2007.

Now, you may be wondering, “What kind of behind do you have now?” Well, it’s there, but it’s nothing special, nothing to write home about. Any white girl can have it by investing the time at McDonald's or doing squats.

So, now you understand. This is why I was praying that ridiculous prayer. I remember what happened before. I remember how it felt, and I don’t want to go through that again.

This article was originally published on June 17, 2010.