Thinking Kinky : The Nappy Haired Diva

I think the best way to start this off is to give you an understanding of my relationship with food. First, we have a relationship. That should say something. The healthy person eats to live, and I live to eat. photo courtesy of www.grandparents.com I'm not sure how it all started honestly. My memory only goes back to about age 4 and at that time, I wasn't conscious of much of anything. I didn't think about my body. I hadn't compared it to anyone else. I was just as clueless about food. I never thought of eating too much or too little. I don't recall being hungry at that age. I just remember being fed. I was a picky eater. Cold cuts made me nauseous. A hot egg sandwich could be ingested but if you tossed a hot drink in the mix (like tea or cocoa), I was tossing cookies. If my dinner had too many ingredients, I picked around it. My mom was always one green pepper or onion slice away from ruining my meal. The only thing I ate to the last drop without fail was pi...

"When I asked about you, I was told that you were my cousin." She sat there, quieted by his admission. She then pondered why such a thing would be said, and imagined what it must have been like for him to meet her and realize that for all of these years he was lied to. Had he not remembered the time they played together in the yard, kicking over mushrooms and digging for dinosaur fossils? Well of course he had. He just thought it was his cousin he was playing with. The silence was uncomfortable. Both of them sat there, equally disturbed. She felt rejected, he felt deceived. This is the consequence of a father's denial of his infidelity. Lies perpetuate the cycle of mistakes, and brothers and sisters sit together, bonded by the pain or repelled by the truth. -For all of my brothers and sisters, with love.