That’s not what I wanted

This post has been rattling around in my head for almost two weeks.  The reason it’s rattling is that I’m still not sure of all the implications.  I have found in the past that when I get it in writing, there are times when it all comes clear.  Perhaps that will happen this time as well.

I was at a local diner to set up for a meeting.  I ordered my meal so I could eat before the meeting started.  When it got there, I realized it had been served on rye bread with caraway seeds and the fries were just barely cooked.  I don’t like caraway seeds at all and I like my fries crispy.  I sat down to eat it anyway because, hey, it’s what I ordered, right?

I took all the sandwich innards off the bread and took a bite and my throat closed and I felt the tears.  My first thought was, “Really? What are all these tears about?” Then, after the reminder to be gentle with myself I asked what was wrong.  It came clear as day. This isn’t what I want to eat.  Then I took another bite. Because that’s what good girls do. They eat what’s in front of them.  I got choked up again and a bit angry.  Then I realized I didn’t WANT to eat the sandwich middle. I wanted the WHOLE thing AND I wanted well done fries, dammit!  So I sat there in a conundrum. I literally sat there for two minutes working through what to do.

I had mis ordered. I normally ask if the bread has caraway and I didn’t specify how I wanted the fries.  It came through loud and clear that I needed to re order and pay for another meal.  I needed to do this for me. I needed to do this to take care of me.  I needed to do this to show me I had value and what I wanted mattered. I needed to do this to strengthen the nurturing maternal mama I’m fostering.  So, I did.  I felt empowered. I felt like I’d shown the little girl she mattered and her opinion was valid and I showed her that she didn’t have to eat something she didn’t want or didn’t like.

There’s the ah ha  in writing it. In my journey, I’ve uncovered that I often will eat something I don’t enjoy for many reasons; just because, it’s a special dish, it was made for me, it’s in front of me, I don’t want to make a fuss in a public place, I’m feeling something I don’t want to feel etc.  This refusal to eat something I didn’t want to eat and re order and pay for a second dish gave validation to how I value myself and that I don’t have to eat what I don’t want. As I type it, it sounds so simple. For me, however, it hasn’t been. It feels like another link in the chain of bondage has been removed.

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One Response to That’s not what I wanted

  1. Amy says:

    Thank you for your blog and personal thoughts. It inspired me to write my own personal diary about my struggles:

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