The one thing I think about the most in this entire world, hands down, is my stomach. That might be weird, but I think about having a flat stomach countless times a day. All the time. Every time I eat something I think about my stomach. It doesn't stop me from eating anything, but if it's something sweet or fried or full of gluten I say to myself "This is why your stomach isn't flat."
I think about my stomach every time I sit because I can feel my two little rolls squish together. I think about stomach when I wake up and go to shower because I see it's pudgy naked self in the mirror. I think about my stomach whenever i get dressed because it's usually the reason I don't like the way something looks on me.
I think my stomach whenever I look at any female. Mainly because I'm comparing mine to theirs and wonder what theirs looks like in a bikini. Instagram only feeds my dumb obsession with flat stomachs. I look at more half naked girls than any guy. I just stare at their perfectly flat tummies and sigh.
I go running. I do sit ups. I do squats. I can plank for at least a minute. I've always been active. And I've always had a chubby tummy. Since I was like 8. I remember being in elementary school and not wanting to wear a two piece because I hated my stomach. That's just ridiculous.
Right now it's the smallest and most toned it's ever been. But I still have a sad frowning face instead of a belly button. I still have 2 visible rolls, upper and lower, just chillin. I am trying to love myself. I am 5 feet 11 inches and weigh 153 pounds. I want to weigh 145. I know that I am healthy and not the slightest bit overweight. But I want a flat stomach. I fantasize about it all the time. All the things I could wear. Never being shy in a bathing suit. Not feeling embarrassed if anyone saw me naked. Being on top during sex and not thinking about how gross I look and wanting it to be over.
Because I might not ever have one. My body just may never have a flat stomach on it's own. Sure I could go starve myself and become obsessed with working out and maybe after a few months of hell I might have one. But I also might not. I may develop toned muscles and be super fit, and still have some belly fat.
I'm hoping by writing about it, and being aware of my negative thoughts about it, will help me finally change and move on and truly appreciate myself and my tummy.
Maybe. For now I'm just mad and stressed that I didn't do my sit ups yesterday.