Pickles, Perfection, and Other Such Ramblings

I'm not really a fan of pickles. I loved them when I was little though. I would get a little bowl full of them and eat them plain, then drink the juice. I don't really like them now though. I'm not sure why. Maybe its how the texture is weird.

I'm very much a texture person. I hate casserole because its a bunch of things cooked together, but I love taco salad because I can put whatever I want in it. I hate salad dressing on my salad because it makes everything so slimy. I hate mashed potatoes because its all smooth and way too mushy. I used to hate pudding, but then I learned to like it.

My mom regularly gets mad at me for not liking food. She will make something for dinner and then get mad because I wont eat it. I've shed many tears over the fact that I can't do what she wants me to do. I can't eat that food. Sometimes it makes me gag when I try to force myself to eat foods I don't like.

I try though. I try so hard to be what my mom wants me to be, wants me to do.

But I physically can't

I've learned that I can't do it, and my mom has learned that she can't force me. She can't guilt trip me. She can't make me eat what I don't want to eat.

Now I love my mom and she loves me. She only wants me to be a well rounded individual, and to survive till the next day. She just wants me to eat food.

We have reached a truce. She says that my 18th birthday present (in a couple months) will be that she no longer forces me to eat food. I promised to keep trying foods.

And I do! I just ate a whole bowl of soup, which I hate. And I liked it! At least the flavor, the texture was still horrible.

The moral of the story is, if you ever meet me on the street, don't invite me to a restaurant that only sells pickles.