no cheese please: an entry about being insecure

All of my family members, friends and random dinner companions know I don’t like funky cheese (Parmesan included) or spicy food. These are my dietary restrictions. Yet I consider myself an overall adventurous eater. And for some (clearly insecure) reason I always want waiters to know that. I don’t want to be perceived as a picky patron. So it’s always with a pang of self-inflicted shame that I mumble “Is there cheese on that Rigatoni Bolognese? That tuna ceviche isn’t spicy is it?”

Why do I care what a waiter thinks of my eating habits? Why do I even assume the server is taking the time to judge me based on my “no cheese” request? One of the myriad reasons I’ve gravitated toward yoga is that there’s no judgment in yoga. But what I often overlook is that yoga isn’t limited to physical practice. I don’t have to be on a mat, contorting myself into Twisted Chair Pose in order to be free from judgment. I just need to be in the right, yogic frame of mind. (And I should probably steer clear of Mexican restaurants.)

A

image via smitten kitchen