I first noticed something peculiar about my butt when I was 14 years old. I gulped down a bowl of milk and cereal and mere hours later I had diarrhea. But, having diarrhea wasn't a new sensation to me. In fact, I had to shit quite often. I enjoyed it. It was one of the only times I, a child of three, could be alone. But this time was different. Because this time, I wasn't alone.
When I expelled my excrement I heard a scream that rattled my bones and stopped my heart. A sharp cry that pierced my ears as though pointy two wasps had burrowed into my earlobes. I looked down in the toilet and saw it. Well, him.
A little green monster with four arms, five eyes and two legs. He looked up at me, a small cigarette poking out of his mouth, and said, “What the hell do you want?” He sounded just like Danny DeVito. He spun in a circle three times fast and jumped right back up in my butt-hole. I didn't even feel it.
For a couple hours, I thought I had hallucinated the whole thing. I definitely didn't tell anyone: friends, teachers, and family. No one would understand. I buried it down deep and chalked it up to PMS. Just girl things! But then, the next day, when I gobbled another bowl of cereal, the same thing happened. Only this time, when he fell out of my butt, I felt pain. A searing tear in my anus. I cried and asked, “Why?” And he looked at me with all five of his eyes and simply said, “You know why.” And then he did what he did best and leaped back inside my butt-hole.
The next day I skipped breakfast but for lunch I ate a grilled cheese sandwich. The exact same thing happened. It became a little dance between the two of us. A classic “will-they, won’t-they.” I was Rachel and he was Ross. After encountering the monster in my butt multiple times, I finally told my doctor what happened but he just suggested I get an eye exam. A male doctor who doesn’t take his female patient’s symptoms seriously? Wild! I knew in that moment no one would believe me, so I set out to get proof. Proof that I wasn’t crazy. Proof there was a cretin living in my butt who tortured me endlessly.
I ate two bowls of ice cream, gargled a milkshake, and washed it all down with two sticks of butter. And I waited. I sat around for what felt like hours, waiting for the pain to strike. Waiting for the monster to make himself known. And when he did, I sprinted for the bathroom with a DSLR camera in hand. I unzipped my wide-leg pants and squatted. I heard a soft splash and looked down and saw him swimming in the toilet water. I grabbed my camera and snapped away. When I looked at the photos on the camera, he was nowhere to be seen. He didn’t show up in photos like a ghost or a vampire.
I feel compelled to come forward with this story, 10 years later, in the hopes that there’s someone out there like me who’s suffered a similar fate. Recently, I watched an interview with Jameela Jamil where she discussed her body imperfections and learning to love herself. I realized there’s absolutely no difference between Jameela and I. We’ve both been hiding our true selves and now need to be open and honest with everyone so that others can learn and grow from our experiences.
I want young girls everywhere to read this and know they’re not alone. I've been living with this…thing, this condition, for over a decade now and I finally feel ready to talk about it. I realize there will be a lot of haters out there who doubt my experiences but I can't live in shame any longer. I refuse to.
So, here goes nothing: my name’s Celenia and there's a tiny monster living in my butt and he won't let me eat dairy.