Sometimes I wonder how life would be different if I had married someone who shares similar comfort foods. Would there be less heart ache? Would we both be gaining weight to no end? Would meals be easier to sit down for as a family? Would there be something else that leaves me with hurt feelings in the place of food?

We don't share similar comfort foods in this house. For the most part, we generally don't even choose to eat the same styles of foods by choice... if I'm looking for something cheesy or crispy, he's looking for noodles and veggies. If I'm craving casseroles, he wants a plate of food where the ingredients are not all mixed together.

Some days, like today, it kills me. I want so much to be able to provide meals my family can enjoy. I want to satisfy him in that aspect- why can't I be the stay-at-home-mom who cooks meals to die for?

But then, I think about it, and I know I'm getting all worked up in a huff for nothing. Food is not what relationships should be based on, and it's not something I should take personally.

On the other hand, that's what I do. I take everything personally. No matter how hard I try to shove it off, every little thing hits home in my heart.


Oui.

Maybe the food is not the issue here.