The Difficult One (Day Three)

Eating the way I am now is not so convenient for the season we're in. Holiday celebrations, get togethers, dinner parties--Christmas is traditionally a time to share food with others, and I'm not eating what 90% of my friends, family, and coworkers are.

So that makes me the one thing I hate. Difficult.

I'm now the girl who brings her own meals, or has to call ahead of time to ask what's being served. I'm the girl that gets salad from restaurants with no cheese, no croutons, and brings her own dressing.

I'm the one that asks where they buy their meat and if it's organic, only to get the evil eye from the waiter on hand. I was a server for four years, and I know "those" people; the ones like me who ask too many questions and seem to snub their nose at food anyone else would be glad to eat. No doubt they'll go back and call me "snooty" or "annoying." They'll roll their eyes as they walk back to the kitchen to speak with the chef.

I hate this more than anything. I don't want to be the difficult one.

But I don't want to be the sick one either, on multiple pills a day, unable to have children or function. I'm tired of fixing symptoms without knowing the root.

I can't feel guilty about what's right for my body. I've felt guilty most of my life, and none of that guilt has ever gotten me anything. I put others first, but without taking care of myself, I'm finally empty.

This journey is as much about healing my mind, soul, and spirit, as it is about my body. Feeding myself real food is just as much about nutrition as it is about feeding my spirit.

So I'll smile at the eye rolls and tip bigger, because I know I'm a pain, but I won't feel guilty about it anymore.