Forty-five minutes left until we arrived in Capetown, South Africa. I would’ve probably enjoyed that bumbling Baz Bus ride blurring down the expansive Wild Coast. But instead of rolling green pastures speckled with grazing black-and-white cows and the gradient blue ocean-sky, every ounce of my focus was directed towards not crapping my pants.
Cold sweat beaded the back of my neck while another surge of hot and cold flushed down my spine. “Why did I eat that unwashed carrot?!” I berated as I clutched my stomach.
There were no tell-tale structures signaling my porcelain sanctuary, but I should’ve had the driver pull-over anyway. The Me-I-am-today would’ve said, “What the freak dude?! Just ask him to pull over. Who cares if they’ll be off schedule and the entire South African countryside can see your bare ass!”
Instead, with deep breaths and misplaced will, I decided, “I can hold it.”
Ah, the runs - the dreaded rite of passage for every backpacker. It was hands-down, the worst 45 minutes of my life.
——
At the time, I was five months into living out of a half-packed backpack while on a promise to “find myself”. That promise landed me in unexpected situations - picking tomato’s at 5AM in Japan, hitchhiking through glaciers in Argentina, and then to the South African heartland with no toilet paper, no toilets, and the embarrassing need for a toilet stop, again.
In the overexposure to new environments and the turnstile of people, I may have found myself, but I lost my center. It became insurmountable to follow through with a simple ask to use the bathroom.
But in the gap of voicelessness is where I learned to speak up for my needs. It showed me where I compromised my well-being and authenticity, just to avoid being labeled as too needy, too sensitive, too selfish, or too high maintenance.
Maslow’s Hierarchy of Needs teaches that self-actualization starts with fulfilling our most basic of human requirements - air, water, food, sex, shelter, clothing, sleep, urination, and excretion. Unearned and unapologetically, we become more of ourselves by speaking up for one nap at a time, one snack at a time, and one bathroom stop at a time.
Yes, there are certainly times, like in the last ten minutes of a Bikram yoga class or before a draft deadline is due, that it makes sense to power through, but needing to poop while riding a long-distance bus is not one of those times. In fact, mind over matter… except when it comes to fecal matter.
Like stating your needs, some things are just better out than in.
And when you know what you need, you know who you are. When you know who you are, you know what you need. Then you can confidently say, “Driver, pull over. I’ve got a crap to take.”
Ahhhhh I didn't realize that you HAD written about 💩 when we were talking about 🍆
The imagery is intense and I feel the need to 💩 now
...mind over matter… except when it comes to fecal matter...just a heroic phrasing, bravo!...