Today continues the weekly series, F*ing Fridays, which will coincidentally occur on Friday. I mentioned some of my favorite F words back on Day 5, including: Fearless, Fabulous, Fine, Fun, Faith, Freedom, Forgiveness, to name a Few.
Last week I dove into the word Fix.
Today’s F*ing Friday is dedicated to the word:
As in, having complicated nutritional requirements.
I’m becoming one of those people.
The kind you dread inviting over for dinner or hosting for brunch.
The kind who talks about food all the time, what she can eat, can’t eat, wants to eat, didn’t eat, would KILL to eat, will never eat again.
Part of me hates being one of those people.
Part of me revels in it.
Complicated it certainly is.
I have been everything from gluten-free, dairy-free, sugar-free, meat-free, pizza-free, chocolate-free, ice cream-free to happily cooking-free.
Not eating items from the list above has been a process but mostly easy enough to stomach.
Well, except for the current chocolate-free state of my nation. But, even through that I have been able to do it (mostly) with grace and at times grinning and bearing it.
I have a learned a few things in the process:
1) It is very difficult to find non-processed, sugar free food in airports
2) I am capable of turning down sugar and tuning out my cravings
Take this past week ~ at our events and gatherings galore with Women on Fire where this tray of sugary sweetness kept finding me and staring me straight in the eye:
I successfully turned it down.
Which is a big feat if you are standing in my shoes.
The fascinating side effect of all this has been one tiny change:
Whole, natural food tastes sweeter.
By removing the corn syrup, added sugar and processed foods I am starting to feel my taste buds again. This, coming from the girl who thought “breakfast” was the part of the day invented to eat cake and drink chocolate.
I’m not saying I will never eat sugary desserts again.
I’m sure that day will come, hopefully in moderation.
In the meantime, I can live with having a fastidious appetite, being called a picky eater, being gingerly addressed with the “what can you eat these days?” question before dinner parties and rummaging around in your refrigerator for my own food when the menu veers in a different direction.
Because the truth is, so far, I feel fabulous.
And, that is F*ing priceless.
Now …who wants to have me over for dinner?