|"Eat the cookie! EAT IT!"|
The little cutie in the dress is my cousin Theresa, and it appears that she is trying to shove something in my mouth. Or she could be attempting to steal my pacifier; you never know with toddlers. Theresa's six months older than me. There was a population explosion in the family in 1965; after me, came my cousin Dennis, and my cousin John. We ended up playing together at family get-togethers after that.
As I was looking at this picture, it struck me that I have an odd relationship with food. I'm not even sure what that means from a psychological aspect, but people just seem to end up bringing me cookies, slipping me chocolate bars on the sly, buying me dinner, etc. They seem to know instinctively that I find comfort in those types of kindnesses.
I'm not a huggy person. Emotions make me uncomfortable, particularly my own. I have trust issues. I'm just as likely to bite a hand as shake it, if I feel like things are getting touchy-feely, because I become defensive about my own emotions. Food offers me an opportunity to circumvent the weird side of my brain, the one that is suspicious of everyone and everything. It's like when you're trying to earn the trust of a dog or cat, and you offer them treats in order to build that trust, I suppose.
Once I have food in hand, even if I never take a bite, I feel calmer. I have something to do with my hands instead of wringing them. I have something to look at if I get anxious about the eye contact. The plate in front of me becomes an extension of my personal space, an area that can be shared with someone else. It's really a win-win situation for all around.
I think too much, don't I? This was just supposed to be a little trip down memory lane, and then I had to get all deep and introspective! What kind of relationship do you have with food?
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