Growing up, the pressure to fit into societal beauty standards was overwhelming. On gaining admission into the University of Lagos, It was nothing but a dream come true to march through the gates. But after a while on campus, I began to notice a trend that gave me pressure: having a flat belly was almost a ticket to popularity, and for someone like me, who always felt a little out of place, it seemed like the perfect solution was to undergo a Tummy Tuck Surgery to pursue the ideal body image and Of course, I could never have told my parents. They were parties to opposing viewpoints founded in conservatism: natural beauty and hard work. They would never allow such a thing, so I kept my intentions to myself.&nbsp;

Ever since I stepped onto the campus, at every corner, I collided with images and ideas that worshipped a flat stomach. All the boys seemed to drool over those with firm, hard-core tummies, crowned by a torso that appeared 'desirable' according to social media—incessantly bombarded by one after another person promoting a 'perfect' look for most of the day. Since I was slowly getting accustomed to living with a big tummy around my core, each time this slender, confident girl passed me by, my self-esteem would dip significantly.

Finally, after many months of being an incompetent person in my head, I decided to try tummy tuck surgery, which would change my life. I began to find out about tummy tuck surgery. I read a lot about the operation: how a tummy tuck, or abdominoplasty, would remove excess fat and skin; in return, the result would give a flat abdominal profile that was usually smoother and firmer than before. Getting a flat stomach was too enticing not to pursue it.

Knowing I could not tell my parents even though they were wealthy and the procedure was expensive, I began saving money from a part-time job and money sent for my upkeep in school to pay for it. I found an excellent surgeon who was highly recommended in Lagos, just a short distance from my stay. Checking the clinic's website, I saw pictures of people before and after with broad smiles, which only fueled my determination. I arranged an appointment and lied to my parents when they called to check up that I was in class reading because I lived off campus.

Going into the surgeon's office was quite a scare. My heart beat like a drum as I sat in the waiting room surrounded by brochures on various cosmetic procedures. Then, the nurse called my name; I felt both excitement and fear.

The consultation was smooth. The surgeon thoroughly briefed me about the procedure's benefits and risks. He told me that I was a perfect candidate for the surgery because of my general health and the fat in my abdomen. He set up a date for the following month, and I left the office with hope and anxiety.

On the surgery day, I arrived much faster than I expected to. I had told my parents that I was going on a trip over the weekend with some friends, but oddly enough, that was one lie I could not help but think about. However, things had gone too far for me to pull out.&nbsp;

That fine morning, I walked into the clinic nervously but determinedly.

The surgical team was friendly and efficient and helped me relax as they wheeled me into the surgery room, positioned me on the operating table, and placed the mask with anaesthetic oxygen over my face. As the anaesthetic started acting, my imagination showed me the new life that would await me when I opened my eyes.

I snapped back into consciousness post-surgery; everything hurt and was confusing. My abdomen felt to have caught on fire, and each little movement shot waves of agony through me. The surgeon and the nurses told me all this was normal and that the pain would pass with time and proper care.&nbsp;

The first few days were the hardest. I could barely stand up straight, and taking something as simple as a walk to the bathroom was seriously painful beyond words. The drains, necessary to remove some excess fluid, are uncomfortable and put one at even more unease with oneself. For the most part, I exerted myself during the day by lying around trying to keep the pain under control through prescribed medication.

It was a lengthy and struggling process of undoing the surgery. The first two weeks were tough as I gradually got used to the new shape of my body and managed the pain. I wore the compression garment around the clock, and it was pretty good at reducing the swelling and bolstering up my rusty muscles. I hardly ever slept a wink and routinely woke up in excruciating pain in the middle of the night.

Despite the pain, I began to notice positive changes. The swelling gradually subsided, and I could see the outline of my new, flatter stomach. This gave me the motivation to push through the difficult moments. I diligently followed the surgeon's post-operative instructions, attending follow-up appointments and ensuring I took care of myself.

There was no way of denying it. Six weeks later, the results were impossible to ignore. My once bulging, distended belly was now flat, muscled, and tight. I felt relieved and great about it. I could wear clothes I used to avoid and gain more confidence in social situations.

However, revealing my new body to my parents was a different challenge. I knew I couldn't keep the surgery a secret forever, but I wasn't sure how they would react.&nbsp;

I finally mustered up the courage to tell them one evening. I told them how hard I was trying to fit in well on campus and about my low self-esteem. Although they got very angry with me, especially with the thought of "What if I lost my life?" I begged them to forgive me for weeks until they finally understood and forgave me. Even though they did not fully agree with what I did, they at least considered me very honest and that I was trying to keep myself safe.

Having gone through a tummy tuck was the hardest thing—physically and emotionally—that I had done in my life. Significant pain and secrets weigh very much, but they are the ones that taught me the most important lessons: self-acceptance and the dangers of seeking perfection at any cost. That's when it hit me that true confidence comes from inside, not from all these societal standards that make everyone feel like they're supposed to look a certain way. I was able to get a flatter stomach with the surgery, but there was so much more to work on for me: self-esteem and body image.&nbsp;&nbsp;

My journey toward getting a flat belly through that tummy taught me that while it might provide the physical changes I craved, beauty lies far more than skin deep. This experience made me much more robust; it opened my eyes to the fact that I must love myself for what I am, not just how I look.&nbsp;

If you're considering a similar path, remember to weigh the risks and benefits carefully and to prioritize your mental and physical health. Beauty standards will always change, but your love and respect for yourself should remain constant.

Are you considering cosmetic surgery to achieve a flat stomach? Let's explore the pressure of conforming to beauty standards and the journey to self-love.

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