Exorcising Childhood Food Trauma
Monday, January 28, 2019
You must think I'm very gloomy and so do I. But then I think, if this stuff is surfacing now, it's in the light, ready to be cast out. And I'm up for the job. It just takes a strong decision to fling this negativity into nothingness.
One of them is when I was about 5yo and father was making lunch for us kids. This would have been ~1955. Such a chore was a huge insult to my father - in those days men did not help around the house. They were king of the castle and hypersensitive to disrespect, such as being asked to pour their own coffee. Anyway, he assembled the kids and one by one made each a sandwich, yelling at the top of his lungs in rage to find out what the kid wanted. That must have made him really mad - obeying one of his children.
I was last, being the picky eater. He slammed the knife down and yelled, "You! What do you want in your sandwich?" I was terrified and didn't answer, so he yelled some more, and threw in physical threats. I knew he'd make something awful; I was trying to think what he couldn't ruin. I said, "Tomato." He yelled and yelled about how I could be sure and was that all, and I had better like it, to all of which I nodded.
He slammed the sandwich in front of me. I shoved it into my mouth to get this over with - and tasted the half-inch slab of oleomargarine on each piece of bread. I made a face. He yelled and yelled and slammed things and so on.
I don't know where Mom was; it must have been serious; she was always home.
So there it is - in the light - ready to be stomped out as part of my food attitudes.