So many people comment that cooking is so easy after asking weather I cook at home. Of course I say no. I mean, I can hardly cook instant rice. Although I may have finally gotten the hang of it. Anyway, I’m left wondering what is blocking my path to culinary achievement. I can think of a few things and decided to share them with you.
- First and foremost is skill. My grandmother cooked the simplest of dishes. There were no big grand meals that I can remember. So she didn’t have much to pass down to my mother. Therefor my cooking skills are slim to non. Now, I know I could apply myself and learn to cook. And that leads into the next reason.
- Desire. Do I want to learn to cook? Do I want to cook? Not really. I don’t get much enjoyment out of working in the kitchen, making a mess and then having to clean all while my husband sits on his butt watching TV and playing on his laptop. I suppose if we did it together it may be more enjoyable.
- Nutrition. I can be a whore for labels. If I cook my own meal there is no nutrition label for me to look at. How will I know how much protein I consumed or if the meal contained too much sugar? The fear of no labels is too strong.
- Confidence. I lack self esteem in almost all aspects of life. So after I pour my heart into a dish I immediately put myself down saying I know how horrible it is. I can’t even fathom that it might be edible much less tasty. Most of the time I don’t even get that far. I convince myself not to even try because I know how bad it will be.
- Panic. I panic when I feel things are out of control. I lose touch with reality and completely breakdown. Cooking can get stressful if you have too many things going on at once. I sometimes end up not even hungry after an event like that.
I’d like to get better at cooking. At least I think so. But not really I guess. The only reason I feel the need to know how to cook is because people tell me it’s not that hard. Like I’m so how defective because I think it is. Some people are good at things others are not. It’s not that hard to believe. I can’t let those kinds of comments go. I hold onto them and beat myself up repeatedly by them. And when I think they’re gone someone will mention cooking and out they’ll come again only this time holding a baseball bat.