From Force-Feeding to Eating Difficulties
There are two groups of people in the world. One that lives to eat and the other that eats to live. I’m definitely not in the first group.
As a gourmand, I crave delicious food, and it doesn’t need to be fancy. Flavor is all that matters.
I have a stubborn stance of my food choices. If something seems disappointing or doesn’t suit my palate, I’d rather skip it and save my food quota for something else.
If I had to endure a terrible meal, I’d mentally file it away as if it never happened and treat myself to a little post-meal pick-me-up: simple but satisfying corn dog from Family Mart will do the trick.
Just like a cow with its four-chambered stomach, I also have a dedicated compartment for a treat. No matter how full I am, if there’s a nice dessert or something else, I’ll go for it.
My indulgence is my way to make up for the terrible experiences I had with food as a child.
As a child, I couldn’t tell the difference between feeling hungry and feeling full until much later on.
I hated mealtime. The steaming food would sit there in front of me until it turned cold. Whether it was the unappealing textures, bland flavors, or just my sheer confusion…
