storyarc

"I Went From The Skinny Girl Nobody Noticed To Getting Asked If I Got A BBL"

After having an upside-down triangle shape and literally no booty my ENTIRE life, I finally found the one thing that gave me the booty, and the attention I spent years thinking I'd never have...

By Roseline Wheeler

Tue. Jun. 2nd, 2026 | 11:11 am

Imma tell y'all something I don't really say out loud...

My whole life I was shaped like an ironing board.

No booty, no hips, no nothing, just straight up and down like somebody drew me with a ruler and forgot to finish.

"Slenderman"

"Skin and bones"

"Skinny-mini"

They all gave me a name, even that one boy in middle school who said I was built like a Black & Mild...

The whole class died laughing, and I laughed too, cause you learn real quick to laugh first so it don't look like it touched you.

But it touched me.

Every single time it touched me.

I used to stand in the mirror just turnin, side to side, side to side, kinda hoping imma catch one lil angle where something was back there.

Never was.

So I started coverin up.

Baggy clothes, hoodies in the summer, them long jackets tied round my waist like I was cold.

I wasn't cold, I just ain't want nobody seein how flat I was.

I dressed like I was tryna disappear.

And if Imma be honest with y'all, I kinda was.

I had this homegirl, love her to death, and she was thick. Hips, booty, the whole thing.

Every time walk in, the room shift for her.

Not me. Her.

That same barista that be dry with me gone light all the way up when she step to the counter.

Men comin to buy us drinks but me and y'all both know who that drink was really for.

They'd say two words to me just to get a lane to her. And Imma be standin right there.

Right there.

Like furniture nobody planned on sittin in.

And here go the part that cut the deepest.

It was always our own men.

Not strangers.

Black men, the ones I grew up round, the ones I actually wanted to notice me, lookin straight through me to get to the girl with the shape.

Like I wasn't even on the menu.

Like I ain't register as a woman at all.

I'm cute. Pretty face, good skin, funny as hell. But none of that counted for nothing.

In our culture curves is currency, and baby I was dead broke...

So after a while I stopped expectin to get picked. For nothing.

I told myself it was just genetics.

My sister thick, my mama thick, and somehow God just skipped me.

But I ain't fully give up tho. Not yet.

Cause somewhere in me was still that lil girl turnin in the mirror, hopin.

So before I let surgery be my only answer, I told myself Imma try everything first.

Everything.

And baby... I meant everything.

I started with the squats.

100 a day, then 200, then I'm down there doin 300 like my life depend on it.

All that and my booty ain't move a inch.

Just got sore.

Then I tried to eat my way thick.

They said you gotta eat big to get big, so I ate like a whole linebacker.

Drinkin ensures after every single meal even when I wasn't hungry.

Choppin up Serious Mass, that weight gainer the gym bros use, mixin it in shakes that tasted like chalk.

Protein shake after protein shake. My face got fuller, my lil stomach poked out, but my booty didn't get the memo at all.

Then came the pills and the syrups.

This the part I'm almost shamed to say.

I tried Apetamin. The famous one, the syrup everybody swear by.

That stuff knocked me tf out. I'd take it and be sleep by 8, droolin, wakin up groggy like I been drugged.

I gained a lil weight tho, but right in my belly.

I tried the GML Apeti pills. Tried the curvy gummy bears.

Wore them padded booty shorts under my jeans like that was finna fool a man...

I spent money I didn't have. On all of it.

Every pill, every powder, every lil scam you can find online.

Nothing worked.

So I sat on the edge of my bed one night, surrounded by all these empty bottles and tubs and wrappers, and I just felt stupid.

Like the joke was on me. Like my body was broken in some way that couldn't be fixed, and I had just wasted a year and a whole bag of money provin it to myself.

That was the night I stopped believin there was anything out there for a girl built like me.

I figured this was just it. This was just my body.

And I was gonna be the skinny girl nobody noticed for the rest of my life.

One night I'm layin in bed mindin my business and here come another one of them before and afters.

Y'all already know I rolled my eyes. Cause I done seen a thousand of these.

Skinny girl, then BOOM, cake out of nowhere.

I'm like, yeah okay, here go another one finna sell me a dream I already paid for five times.

My thumb was already movin to scroll past it. But something made me stop.

It wasn't the girl in the video.

It was the comments...

All them girls was sayin the same thing.

"the BBL accusations I been gettin is wild, I just laugh now."

Another one said "my man can't keep his hands off me, he act like I'm a brand new woman."

Somebody else said "my homegirl was gatekeeping these bcs they work fr fr"

And it was like ten, fifteen of em.

Different ages, different shades, all sayin the same thing in they own words.

That's what got me.

Cause you can fake one testimonial.

You can't fake a whole comment section of women gassin each other up about something that actually worked.

So I finally read what the girl was sayin. She said the reason this one hit different is 'cause it ain't a powder, ain't a pill, ain't no gummy.

It's all them thick-girl herbs put together, concentrated, in a liquid you just drop under your tongue.

And I ain't never seen it like that before.

Every single thing I ever tried was a pill, a powder, or a gummy.

Never drops.

Never all of it together in one bottle.

For one second something in me went, huh... that's actually different.

And then real quick I caught myself. Cause baby, I been here before.

I'm layin there like, girl. Girl. You said this the last five times.

Every time you swore "this the one," and every time you ended up with a fuller face, a poppin stomach, and a empty pocket.

How many times you finna fall for the same trick?

You really bout to let some drops on the internet get your hopes up again?

…Yeah. I did.

Copped three bottles that same night, talkin myself down the whole checkout like girl this the last time, I promise.

But this time was different.

This time…

I wasn't the same person by the time them bottles was empty.

So I started takin em.

Two drops under my tongue every morning like clockwork.

Week one, nothing. I'm like yep, this is another scam online. Wanted to call my bank, but something told me to keep takin them.

But by the end of the second bottle… I couldn't fit my jeans.

It wasn't in my head, yall.

My hips filled out them jeans in a way the back pockets was never designed for.

I remember buyin a whole new wardrobe that month.

Bodycon dresses, leggins, shorts…

Yup. Me. The girl who used to shop in the kids section, now buyin grown woman clothes.

I'd walk in a room and I'd feel it.

The heads turnin. The second look. The attention.

That feelin like somethin ENTERED the room.

For the first time in my life I didn't just see it.

I felt it.

The same men that used to look straight through me now started speakin first.

I walked past my ex one day and that man damn near choked on his drink.

I swear his ass was sweatin.

Then I took a pic with my homegirls.

The ones I always thought was just born with the right genes.

All you could see was beautiful women.

Hair done, nails done, thick as snickers.

My girl Tenisha was locked in on that photo.

She couldn't believe what she was lookin at.

She looked up at me, dead serious, like "Roseline… did you get a BBL?"

The whole circle went quiet and looked.

For the first time ever, in the group pic, you couldn't tell who was who.

I wasn't the flat one tucked in the corner no more. I had a shape in that photo.

I belonged in that photo. And in my community.

I went from the girl nobody noticed… to the girl my own besties think paid 15 racks to look like this.

And all I did was wake up somethin my body shoulda been doin the whole time.

Now lemme tell you what I figured out through all this.

For the longest, I thought God just ran out of booty by the time he got to me.

Like he was handin out hips and cake all day, gave my mama some, gave my sister some, and by the time he got to me the bag was empty.

But that wasn't it.

My body was never broke.

It was just gettin the signal wrong.

See, a woman grow her cake from her feminine hormones.

Some of us just got the right ones growin up, some of us didn't.

Them drops?

It's a concentrated blend of maca root, fenugreek, ashwagandha and beet root.

All them thick-girl plants that most women buy separately, in a weak lil capsule that barely do nothing.

These come in liquid, so they actually wake that signal back up. That's the whole secret.

My body finally stopped fightin me and started workin with me the day I started takin them.

I know exactly what you thinkin right now. Cause I thought it too.

But that's the best part.

You don't gotta trust me.

You try em for a whole 90 days.

If you don't end up makin your ex sad and buyin new jeans, they'll give you every dollar back.

No callin the bank like every other scam out here. You really got nothing to lose.

I got mine from a small company called Amua.

Last time I checked they was runnin a crazy sale.

Like the cheapest their VitalDrops ever been.

Which is the only reason I'm even makin this post.

When I bought mine it wasn't on sale and I still say it was the best money I ever spent.

So if you been on the fence, this is the time.

I don't know how long the sale gone last.

But listen...

Don't go searchin these up on Google or Amazon or whatever.

I'm being deadass.

Cause the second something start workin, every scammer online try to copy it.

There's a hundred fake versions out there now with the same lil yellow bottle, sugar water inside, takin people money and sendin em nothing.

So Imma make this easy for you. I put a link right under this.

This the real one, straight from the actual company where I got mine.

That's the only one I trust, and the only one I'd ever send my own people to.

Tap it, get your bottles before the sale run out, and come back and thank me when your homegirls start askin you for your surgeon's number.

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