32 - The Goldilocks Potassium Theorem

A strange thing happened the other day.

I made banana pudding and offered some to my husband. He ate something else. No worries, more for me. The next day I reminded him it was in the fridge if he wanted some. He made a small bowl. 

After a while I noticed that he hadn’t eaten more than one bite. When questioned, he said it tasted weird. That there was something off about it. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on, but that made him not want to eat it. 

When I was young, we ate a lot of processed foods. Pudding mixes, cake mixes, and Hamburger Helper. Frozen fried chicken, tv dinners and pizza. Little Debbie was like a member of the family. Greatly loved and always around. I had a very normal (for the time) food childhood. I ate bologna sandwiches with processed cheese slices on soft white bread. I ate cheesy poofs that made everything around me (including myself) orange. I drank red pop.

I loved desserts and one of my most favorite was banana pudding. But not banana FLAVORED pudding. Oh, no! I loved the delicious dessert that you had to make ahead of time and let sit in the fridge. 

Every great chef has their preferred way of making it, a secret family recipe passed from generation to generation. This was mine:

Vanilla pudding mix (probably 2 large boxes), follow directions on box

Bananas, sliced

Box of Nilla wafers

Layer in a glass dish and cover with plastic wrap. It’s ready to eat when the cookies are soft. 

I recently found some gluten free cookies that look and taste like vanilla wafers. Score!

The store still sells bananas, so I was good on that front.

I just needed a pudding recipe.

I ended up finding one that was pretty simple: bananas, coconut cream, maple syrup/honey, tapioca starch, vanilla and salt. The only weird thing to me was how much it tasted like banana flavored pudding. It was awesome and I wanted to share! I made the dessert of my childhood, although I used my different (gluten free, dairy free, corn free, everything free) recipe ingredients. 

When finished, I had one son try it. “Um, I don’t like banana pudding.” Whose son are you?? You are dead to me!! Just kidding. I thought about it but didn’t say it. 

It turned out that the only person who was interested in trying it, was able to try it, and did try it was my daughter. She loved it. She thought it was exactly perfect.

So why was that not enough?

I have spent my entire life trying to bend and twist myself into what is acceptable by the standards of society. Although my family laughed at the fact that, “Missy marches to the beat of her own drum,” they didn’t actually accept it. Neither did my teachers. Or friends. Or acquaintances. No one has. So I eventually tried to fly under the radar. Blend in. Be like everyone else. 

I studied the way people behaved and tried to mimic. I studied the way they dressed and tried to mimic. I studied the way they talked and tried to mimic. But just like the banana pudding, I was weird. There was something off about me. Something people couldn’t quite put their finger on, but that made them not want to hang around too long.

So what is it?

But just like the banana pudding, I don’t know. If I knew, I could fix it.

That’s how I have spent my entire life. Trying to figure out what is wrong, and then fixing the problem. I do it all the time. I am constantly evaluating and making adjustments. Reevaluating and making more adjustments. The problem is, where I’m looking is not a constant. Depending on who I am with, what they want from me is inevitably different. That’s why I change masks based on who I am around. 

I also pick up the mannerisms and ways of speaking of each person I am around. The way I dress depends on who I will see. The definition of who I am has been very fluid. Constantly changing. Not because I want to reinvent myself, but because the people I am around are constantly changing and I need (in my opinion) to change myself to reflect that. 

Why?

I recently began a journey (another one!) that I think is helping me to understand. My brain does not process information the same way the average person’s brain does. There’s nothing wrong with it. It’s just different. Because of that, it’s extremely hard for me to understand people’s behaviors or unspoken rules of interaction. 

I’ve had people mad at me for oversharing. I’ve actually had people mad at me for undersharing. I have a hard time navigating the fine line of appropriate levels of communication.

I know others have been angry at my complete honesty, so I try to “sugarcoat.” But that just comes across like I am trying to be better than others. When actually, that is the furthest thing from my mind. I’m just trying to be nice and not hurt feelings. 

I am especially sensitive to noises and can become very irritable. I would list all of the various types of noises, but it would be too long. It is basically all noise. Let’s just go with that to make this simpler. 

I could go on and on, but I’ll stop here. The point is, I'm awkward. I’m a little different. I’m a little off. Something that most people can’t put their finger on. 

You know, when I cook my allergy-friendly recipes, I’m trying to make my food as good as the originals. The gluten filled, dairy filled, nut filled goodies that I miss. But the thing is, I can’t. Not really. 

I’m trying to make food that people would never know was missing those allergens. But the thing is, I can’t. Not really.

I’m trying to make things that an average person would love. But the thing is, I can’t. Not really.

So why am I trying? No, really! Do you know??

I think, and don’t quote me on this because I’m not positive… I think it’s because, like my life, I’m trying to fit my food into a category that it doesn’t belong to. I’m trying to make things that fall under the “Everyone Will Love This” sign. But everyone ISN’T going to love it. Just like everyone doesn’t like cheesy poofs. Or cola. Or **GASP** pizza. It’s not for everyone.

I need to focus on the group that my food is for. The group who NEED allergy friendly recipes. Not for a lifestyle change (although that is completely fine!), but because they CAN’T eat the other stuff. 

Do you remember the story of Goldilocks and the Three Bears? Papa Bear’s oatmeal was too hot. Mama Bear’s oatmeal was too cold. Papa Bear’s chair was too hard, Mama Bear’s chair was too soft. Papa Bear’s bed was too hard. Mama Bear’s bed was too soft. 

It’s funny. I had never even thought about this until my daughter brought it to my attention. The chairs, the oatmeal and the beds were not right for Goldilocks. But they weren’t meant for her. The hard chair was built for Papa Bear. The soft chair was built for Mama Bear. It isn’t like there was anything wrong with them. Not at all! They were built for a specific person (excuse me, BEAR). Those chairs and beds were perfect for who they were designed to hold. And it wasn’t Goldilocks.

Food is love. And if you can’t eat what everyone else is eating, you feel removed from that love. So my food is made for people with allergies who want delicious meals and desserts. It’s for people who miss foods that will give them some sense of normalcy and feelings of inclusion. Maybe everyone won’t like it, but it isn’t made for everyone. 

That’s ok.

And me? I’m still figuring out exactly what I was made for. I may say the wrong things, or behave in a strange way. But I really do mean well. I just hope my family and friends continue to like the crazy, ‘can’t quite put my finger on it’ weirdness that is me. Because I’m not for everyone.

And that’s ok, too.