I eat a piece of fruit in the morning

Today, while examining the belly of my fridge, I unexpectedly lunged for a kiwi. I took it, cut it in half, and stood in my kitchen while gently scooping the flesh out with a spoon. I was a woman relishing, and thats it. Sometimes, flavor does that to me.

I used to say that I wasn’t a fruit person. Well, I wasn’t a lot of things once. But then last year, during some of my darkest days, a pint of apricots was gifted to me.

At that point in my history, I barely ate a full meal in a week. For some reason, my slim apetite turned towards the apricots, and pleaded.

I started putting them in my pockets before my morning walk. Formerly, a fruit avoidant!

Now, I wonder why I have resisted so many things, curiosities, opportunities, people.

Why ever say no to fruit?

Now, I brew coffee and take, say, a pear and eat it leaning against the cold marble of my counter. I eat it with a paring knife and if I’m lucky, the juice trickles down my hands.

Resistance found me again tonight when I was making dinner. Pasta - good, fatty bacon, sliced garlic, fennel seeds and oregano and red pepper flakes, tomatoes, pecorino.

I remember when I was a shy cook and working in the business of teaspoons and pinches. I would pick out the herb stems and skim off the fat, removing anything disorganized but ultimately keeping myself from more flavor.

Not anymore, girls. We’re eating the herb stems and strawberry leaves and we’re scraping the mold off of the cheese and continuing on. Scared? Around food? That’s not us.

So, I resist less and I accept more and I put a handful of blueberries in my pocket. I go for a walk.

XO