Confession: I would help my picky eater, but I’m afraid of food
Felty friends: Mandy Milks, Line illustrations: Anthony Swaneveld, Photo: Roberto Caruso, felt material courtesy of thefeltstore.com
Of all my parenting prayers, the one I say with extra fervour is to the Eating Gods. ?Please, please, please,? I whisper. ?Please let my kids not be afraid of food.?
I am afraid of food. There are entire aisles at the grocery store that scare me. For as long as I can remember?since I was a toddler?I have had a strange, unaccountable fear of fruits and vegetables in their natural form. I can?t eat them. I?ve no idea how to cook them. Some are hard for me to even touch.
The particulars are boring. I can eat most things but only in certain ways. I love strawberry jam but can?t bite into a strawberry. I devour hummus but cannot eat an actual chickpea. I crave banana bread, but peeling bananas makes me almost vomit. This one phobia has birthed others: fear of travel to places where they seem to only eat fresh fruit, of dinner parties hosted by vegans, of working lunches where all the sandwiches are smushed with tomatoes. I compensate by drinking expensive green juices and taking organic vitamins I know are useless. In public, I wave away food, pretending I?m not hungry (as my stomach is growling) or that I?m on some unspecified diet (which I never am, because most every diet requires me to eat food that I can?t).
When I became a parent, I vowed to change. If there was even a small chance I could raise good eaters by simply turning into one ...
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