big glutes sometimes feel like a threat.

Photo by Deon Black on Unsplash

If there’s one thing that felt like a personal disappointment growing up, it’s that I didn’t inherit the big bunda from both sides of my family. My mum is you know, and even when compared with some of my aunts, she playin’. The heritage is rich. Their thighs, thick; hips, wide; bum, well-rounded… alladat stuff.

Moreover, I heard stories about how my maternal grandma tried to mold mine and my cousin’s when we were babies, just like she did for our mothers. Unfortunately, I can respectfully confirm that it didn’t work for me. Grandma, I love you but you only had one job.

I grew up with a “humble” backside.

But shouldn't ‘humble’ be a good thing? Except on some days it doesn't feel enough. When I looked in the mirror and compared myself to the women in my family, some friends, or the girls that caught the boys’ eyes, I felt threatened. For most of my life, I told myself I didn’t care, that I was past all that. But if I’m being honest, not quite.

Now, I’m a believer, and you can trust that I cling to one of our favorite scriptures whenever we wrestle with this kind of insecurity:

I praise you because I am fearfully and wonderfully made; your works are wonderful, I know that full well. (Psalm 139:14 NIV).

See, I believe it like mad!

God did! Even my parents’ genes combined in their perfect way, well, except for this one area where it always felt like, “where did they bring me from?” Lol.

There have been a few moments when I liked someone, only to find out later about the kind of girls they were into. Without fail, most times, she was “her.” The one with the heavy duty behind—Ìdípọ́nmilé¹. And while I’m not naïve enough to think that’s all they saw in her, I couldn’t deny that it was probably a significant part of the attraction. A big part of it (pun intended).

That reality created some kind of tension inside me. Like will I always be the “safe one?” You know, the friend who could make you laugh but wasn’t necessarily the first choice for “more-than-just-friends.” I started to wonder if I should feel resentment toward God (or my poor grandma) for not pressing that extra “volume” to the back.

After all, if those curves were a part of attraction or affection, then what did it mean for those of us without the prominent kind?

It is why, at any chance I get, I employ hacks on creating an illusion of volume to my outfit. Honestly, most of the time, it is so my clothes would fit better and feel more balanced, but I can’t lie, it was also about wanting to feel a little more confident in my skin. And when I looked around, I began to understand better why many people choose to undergo procedures like Brazilian Butt Lifts (BBLs).

The pressure to conform, to be desired, and to feel “enough” is very real. If surgery or any enhancement is what helps someone get closer to peace in their own skin, what does my opinion change?

On the flip side, I’ve heard the stories from some of my “endowed” friends. They tell me about how awkward and frustrating it can be with having too much attention on just one part of their bodies. The unsolicited comments, the objectification, and the assumption that because they have curves, their worth is somehow tied only to their physical appearance. It made me realize how complex the whole “big bum” issue really is, not just for those of us who wish we had it, but also for those who have it in abundance.

It’s a double-edged sword, really.

However, there was my attempt at squats and lunges. I took it seriously for a while. Even started a workout routine, determined to build some muscle and add some shape naturally. The first few weeks, I was motivated but life happened. I never committed long-term. 💀

Looking back, I think part of me was secretly hoping for a miracle. Like some instant transformation that would fix my “problem” overnight. But real change takes patience, consistency, and a lot of self-love along the journey. While squats, lunges, and the likes are great for strength and health, they aren’t a magic fix for feeling “enough.”

The real work is on the inside.

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Why big glutes (or any other insecurity) should not feel like a threat.

While I had a rough draft for this piece sitting with me for a while, I find it quite interesting and honestly divinely intentional that on two separate occasions, during entirely different services, our pastor brought up self-esteem and self-worth. The sermons weren’t even centered on those themes, yet he paused to highlight these:

Your self-worth does not lie in your frame.

Your frame is the perfect fit for your assignment.

I felt seen!!! Felt heard!!!

It reminded me that I was formed, not with oversight, but with intentionality. This truth doesn’t, of course, erase insecurity overnight, but it offers a foundation strong enough to stand on when doubts creep in. Our worth is rooted in God’s love, not in the way clothes fit or the way people’s eyes linger.

And about the guys, the ones I used to like who often went for “her.” Their preference was never really a verdict on my value. Like I once wrote: your worth doesn’t shift with anyone’s preferences, and a true connection wouldn’t demand you become something you’re not. People are drawn to different things for different reasons, and that's okay. I have my type too, and it would be unfair, even unkind, to make those who don’t fit it feel small or inadequate.

What matters now is that I no longer take it personally. I don’t reduce myself to a body part or a body type. I am so much more, and the one who sees me rightly will see all of me.

Finally, it is completely alright if the only curves I have to offer are those in my smile: Mo wá tú ní dimple². Or the ones that come alive in my writing, like the way I have taken you on this journey through my thoughts and feelings.

There is Christ in me, and that alone expands my worth beyond what the eye can see. I am already a vessel fit for the Master’s use. Whole. Purposeful. Beautiful in body and spirit.

If you’re reading this and you relate to even a fragment, then let me remind you too: you are enough. You were formed with intention. There’s more to you than the part you wish was different.

I hope this blessed you. I’d love to hear your thoughts. 💌

Yours in Quality time,
Adébọ́lá. 🦋

1. “Ìdípọ́nmilé” roughly translates to “the buttocks that command attention” or “a full, prominent behind.”

2. “Mo wá tún ní dimple” translates to “I also have a dimple.”