Giving Myself the Love I Show Others by Setting My Own Table

There’s a common stereotype that chefs eat like sh*t and it’s very true. Most chefs I’ve worked with picked up their meals from gas station quickie marts, fast-food chains, the frozen food section or simply failed to feed themselves at all -  and I’m no exception as my go-to meals usually consist of canned soup and frozen fish sticks. 

The reality is that when you cook all day for others, the last thing you want to do is cook at home. Home cooking is easy to neglect. It’s especially easy when it's yourself that you’re neglecting. But like most chefs, cooking for those I love sets my soul on fire. But without a partner to cook for, no immediate family who live close, and friends who have mostly opposite schedules, I often end up feeling lost outside of my work. A familiar saying comes to mind: “If a tree falls in the forest and there's no one around to hear it, does it make a sound?” If I’m not cooking for someone, how will people know I still exist?

We’re so often taught that self sacrifice is the definition of what makes you a good mom, daughter, sister, wife, and woman. My mother was always the last to eat and when she taught me how to cook, I learned how to feed my brothers first. 

The older I get, the more I find myself having to peel back layers and layers of the complexities of selfhood that are deeply rooted in my service to those around me. I’m a chef, someone who cooks for others. I’m a Mexican woman, and by cultural default, the caretaker of my family. As a participant in economic society, my monetary compensation is based on my productive output. So when I get home at the end of the day, what’s left? Am I still worthy of affection without constantly serving others? 

The answer I’ve derived from a lot of therapy suggests that “yes, of course I am” (though much easier said than done). I recognize that learning how to love myself involves sitting with who I am underneath these layers of cultural duty. Because when duty denies us the space to celebrate who we truly are, it becomes something that rarely resembles authentic love. All that said, I'm on a deep dive into healing parts of me that were often neglected - getting to know myself with one great meal at a time. Even when no one is around, because I too, am worthy of being served.