Food Saved My Life
Blowing out the candles on my 2nd Birthday pie. Fresh Strawberry Pie is still my favorite
Let me tell you a little about me. It’s actually a side of me that I don’t always like to talk about. It’s a part of my story that caused me a lot of shame and deep feelings of worthlessness, especially in my teen years. But it’s this very part of my story that has brought me to where I am now. It’s the part of me that has forced me to keep getting up and to keep fighting.
I was born with dyslexia, a learning disability that prohibited me from thriving in the traditional model of school. I would read and not understand the content. Having trouble retaining information, I would constantly fail at assignments and tests. Growing up in the 80’s and early 90’s, there was no real understanding about dyslexia and therefore no help for someone like me.
In 4th grade my Mom took me to a specialist to figure out why I was suffering so badly in school and having a difficult time keeping up with the other kids. But with science not being where it is now the tools they gave me were of little help. I continued to fail and as I entered my teen years it started to deeply affect my self worth. I struggled to see what value I had. I wasn’t smart. I wasn’t athletic. I wasn’t popular. And I was naturally quiet. It felt like there wasn’t a place for me.
I remember when I was failing 8th grade U.S History, my teacher was completely unsympathetic towards me. Honestly, he was just mean. My Mom got so fed up with it that she showed up to the school and gave him a piece of her mind. It didn’t help my grade or the way he treated me, but I did feel very loved by my Mom’s protectiveness of me.
I worked hard at school and yet continued to make D’s and F’s and sometimes, if I was lucky, I'd get C’s. Entering High School is when I finally gave up. I would continue to work hard in class and on homework yet I was still failing. I just couldn't keep up with the other students and I started to wonder what my purpose was. I remember at my lowest point, my freshman year of high school, one night I fell into a deep depression and played “Everybody Hurts” by R.E.M. I as lay on my bedroom floor I wondered what the point of my life even was and why I was even alive. I wouldn’t say I was suicidal but I was overcome with deep depression. I wasn’t good at school. I was the youngest of three girls and both my older sisters had been on the cheer team, school leadership, the homecoming court and had successfully gone off to college. And there was me. I felt different, as if there was no place for me.
After that night I begged my parents to homeschool me. I was drowning and the thought of 3 more years felt like torture. Thankfully, they saw my struggle and agreed it would be the right thing. But they did give me one stipulation, I had to cook 2 dinners a week. I think my Mom was burnt out from cooking dinner every night and this was her way out! So I began researching recipes, creating shopping lists and planning dinners…and I loved it!
When I began actually making meals, that’s when I started to come alive. I would go to the library and check out piles of cookbooks to read and research. I felt like I stumbled into a world that awoken an inner part of me. I finally began to feel like I had a purpose in life. And what made it even more encouraging was that I was good at it. Every dinner I made my family would compliment me. I never felt successful at anything before but I was good at making food!
I started to dream about owning a catering company or working in a restaurant. The fact that I was dreaming about my future was a beautiful thing. I had found my purpose in life and my passion. Food. Food opened my eyes to a whole world of culinary traditions and history.
I realized why I was created, to create food for others. To give them a taste of beauty! Food truly saved my life. Food is a powerful part of life. We connect over meals. We are comforted by bowls of macaroni and cheese and we make memories around the holiday tables. When I found my passion for creating food I found my purpose and my calling. Although I still struggle with dyslexia (don’t judge my grammar and spelling:). It’s the very thing that helped open the culinary world to me. I now see what was once a burden is now a gift.
17 year old me making jam and loving that 90’s wall paper
17 year old me just starting culinary school and thrilled for my new adventure in life.
Christmas cookie decorating with my sisters/besties from youngest to oldest: Me, Michelle, Heather
16 and taking my first Wilton Cake Decorating class with my sissy Michelle
17 year old me looking a little sleepy while “catering” my oldest sister Heather’s bridal shower.