Fruits are supposed to be good for you – or so they say. Unless you’re me (and well, the whole boatload of other people who are hypersensitive to certain fruits).
Because eating fruits is always a bit like playing Russian Roulette when it comes to my mouth. Where some fruits are fine, some give me a serious case of the heeby jeebies (or just a burning, tingling, stinging tongue and throat). It’s not really allergies perse, nor is it a reason to drag me off to the nearest hospital or stab me with an epi-pen or something in that realm of drama, but it’s annoying as fuck none the less.
Thing is – it’s not all fruits. And it doesn’t even happen all the time with the fruits that do have that effect. It’s only when they’re fresh. Heat them up or soak ’em in syrup or turn ’em into drinks and I’m good (unless I overdo it and binge on ’em). Plus, I’ve pretty much narrowed it down to ‘exotic‘ fruits as far as I go, with pineapple topping the ranks of fruits-that-are-mean. Plain old apples, pears and oranges don’t get me going – but feed me a piece of pineapple and it’s TINGLEFEST IN MAH MOUTH. Same goes for coconut. Kiwi. Lychee. And pretty much everything we can’t grow in our cold, wet little country.
Solution to the problem should be easy enough. Avoid said fruits altogether.
But. I. Can’t.
I goddamn LOVE pineapple. It’s BY FAR my favorite fruit in the world. I see a slice of pineapple, I get a happy little bouncy in my step and a wiggle in my booty. I just want it. Gimme dat pineapple. Spot it on a menu? Order it. See it in the supermarket? Get it. I know it’s gonna sting like a mofo from bite one. I know the tingles may drive me mad. But I see pineapple? I eats it. Can’t be avoided. I’ll complain about the effect it has on me. I’ll chastise myself for eating it. I’ll promise myself to not do it again in the future. But in the end – I’ll still eat it. Shrug. And go: #Worthit.
There’s so many fruits to choose from. So many that won’t eat up the roof of my mouth and burn my tongue. Hell. I go equally crazy over melon (not nasty watermelon mind you, but the nectar of the gods that is Galia melons. Or honey melons. Or those orange ones that taste a bit like not-melon). But still, every now and then I fall for pineapple.
And (can you guess where this is going yet?)
I’m the damn same with men.
So used to being with men that, right from the get-go, hurt to be with (in some parts) but just ‘taste’ (not the physical kind, you pervs) so damn great. Who fit my palette to a tee, except for the parts where they’re a constant pain in the heart to be with at their very core. And who I accept on my menu regardless of that fact.
I can’t even count the times I sat down in tears with ‘the last ex‘ – explaining to him how being together was destroying me, while arguing that I chose to do so anyway. That I could take the bad with the good because the good was just…so…damn….good.
Which – just like me insisting on eating pineapple regardless of it’s reign of terror in my mouth – is practical insanity.
Because no matter how great pineapple tastes, and no matter how good being with a not-good partner might sometimes be…the fact is that there’s NOT A SINGLE GOOD REASON to accept that as ‘good enough‘.
Because instead of taking pineapple as it is (or being with someone while accepting the parts that hurt) – I could just as easily heat it up to destroy the proteins that eat up my tongue. Or dip it in syrup so it no longer hurts. I can adapt pineapple in ways that it can be in my life WITHOUT hurting. So there’s no need to go for the fresh version that does.
Similarly, I don’t HAVE to accept someone ‘exactly‘ as they ‘are‘ in my life. There’s room to compromise. To find the middle ground where it won’t hurt. To fit together in ways that are alright for both, instead of just accepting a status quo.
And if that room isn’t there, or if the ingredients for syrup are missing. If there’s no microwave or stove present for heating the pineapple – I STILL have the choice to NOT eat the fresh ones. Those are the moments I should skip the pineapple and go for the melon instead. I fucking love melon too. And it doesn’t hurt me in any of the ways pineapple does.
AKA – I shouldn’t be with the pineapple men that hurt simply because they taste so great. Especially if they’re not willing to be soaked in syrup, or heated up until they hurt no more.
There’s sure to be melon-men out there who are equally delicious without any of the pain. Even though I still might miss pineapple every now and then. Until, I guess, genetic modification pulls through and gets me a version of pineapple that DOESN’t hurt. Gotta keep my fingers crossed for science.
In the meantime: that doesn’t mean I should have pineapple though. Or settle for pineapple-men. I just gotta wait it out for a new delivery of melon and then just eat my fill of that. All of the joyful fullness, none of the autschies. Win-win.
Plus. If there’s none of the good fruits available – there’s still enough apples and pears in the world to at least get your needed daily dose of fruit. If yaknow what I mean.