I swapped one fork for another in my own kitchen and heard a voice in my head say: "There you go again. So high maintenance." And I realized: I've been performing ease my entire life.
Isn’t it wild? Sometimes the permission we’re waiting for doesn’t even have a face — it’s just the old echo of a system that told us good women don’t ask for more.
That fork moment revealed how deep the programming still runs.
Even alone, in my own kitchen, I was negotiating my worth with some invisible authority.
No more.
At some point, the question isn’t “Can I?”
It becomes “Why the hell wouldn’t I?”
Thanks for catching that. You saw the real thread — and pulled it.
Ditto here...I just subscribed because again you are speaking my language along with all those same thoughts running on a loop in my head. Need to let it all go and Be Me because I am a freaking fabulous 👌 woman at 74 and it is totally OK that I need my granite kitchen island to be free of any random items planting themselves on it!!!! Peace and love ❤️ from TX ❤️
Minimizing your own comfort.” This! And to think we were taught this is how we must go through life if we were to succeed and gain friends along the way.
OMD, you are speaking my language! I definitely have favourites in everything pretty much.
I hear that voice. Mostly, I hear it AFTER I've said something. Even though folks that love me say they are okay with me as I am, I still chastise myself, or feel guilty for being so 'picky'.
In my family, it feels like some think I'm a snob that I am too high and mighty. But, I like what I like (I am spot-on Taurus in that regard) and when it comes to things like restaurants, I'd rather not eat in them if the food is not better than I can prepare on my own. I don't mind paying for quality. However, if I'm invited to dinner and someone cooks, I will eat what they put on the table.
But, having opinions about quality is always a challenge for me.
I almost always feel too much and that I too freely offer my opinion (which I'm sure some people in my life would definitely agree with). I'm learning to be okay that not everyone agrees with me and that we are allowed differing opinions.
Oh, I see you so clearly in this — the internal voice, the Taurus truth, the high standards that get misread as high-and-mighty.
Here’s the thing: having preferences isn’t a character flaw.
It’s a signal that you’re paying attention to what nourishes you.
And yes, we were trained to flatten that — especially if we were women, especially in families that praised adaptability and called it “love.” But liking what you like is not a crime. It’s a form of self-trust. And it’s okay if that makes some people squirm.
You said it best: “having opinions about quality is always a challenge.”
But what if it’s not a challenge?
What if it’s your compass?
Not everyone will understand it. That’s not the goal.
The goal is to stop abandoning yourself just to make your preferences more palatable.
So here’s to being “too much,”
too picky,
too opinionated,
too unwilling to pretend bad coffee is fine.
Because maybe too much is just code for finally enough.
Yes, yes, yes! It’s a lifetime of conditioning. My mother, when she was alive, used to say I was a very good baby, because I wasn’t demanding, but as soon as I found my voice and voiced my disapproval of things (I once, quite literally, fell asleep with my head on my plate because I wasn’t allowed to leave the table until I ate [but that was a sister, not my mom, who was busy having yet another baby in the hospital]) her opinion changed. Thank you!
I’ve definitely done that too. Maybe I have silenced that voice by now. Discovered the voice maybe 30 years ago. I’ll have to check if it’s really gone.
But choosing the fork you want is also self care. It’s like allowing oneself to go to a spa (if you like that kind of thing, nothing for me, though). Mindful self care. Grounding self hugging.
That’s a tape to toss! I avoid unbalanced forks too.
Right now, I am at a local mall enjoying a cup of coffee and a danish at 5:00 PM. And I’m not wearing any make up. Just enjoying a few moments of reading on my phone. Aaahhhh!😌
I'm now donating those items that simply aren't pleasant to use. Although it's a work in progress - might be just one clothing item per month. But as each item leaves, I feel lighter somehow.
There’s always something isn’t there? I’m the only one in the house that likes coffee and walnut cake, so I never made it, but would choose a badly made one when out, just to get that flavour. Ridiculous. I now make it, cut it into portions and freeze them separately so I can have coffee cake whenever I want! Chuck that damn fork in the bin, or use it to repot your houseplants or feed the cat. And I’ll make another coffee cake!
I'm so grateful this essay and your account were recommended to me by a dear friend because your voice has really spoken to me tonight. I have my own fork mindsets I'm ready to shed. Thank you for a lovely and empowering read.
This made me cry. I hear that voice too often. Thank you for reminding me its ok to have preferences. To like the things I like. To make the choices I make that make me feel good. I needed to hear this. Thank you.
"stop abandoning ourselves" 🤯 it is as habitual and automatic as breathing. Silencing with kindness that inner bitchy tirade has been challenging! Thank you for the morning reminder that I matter.
Women are taught from a young age to be people pleasers, the quiet ones, to squelch our discomforts. Trying to make sure my granddaughters don’t fall into that trap!🥰
Dear dear Monica - From my 87-year-old perspective here's some unsolicited advice: throw the bad fork out. Or make it into a piece of conceptual art representing your liberation! Fill your silverware drawer only with forks you like so when it comes to taking one you don't have to choose––they are all "good" forks! If you have an uncomfortable chair, dump it and get a comfortable one. It's time to treat yourself as you would treat your most honored guest. If you won't do it for yourself who else could you trust enough to give you just what you want?
Interesting how we spend so much of our lives just asking for permission
Isn’t it wild? Sometimes the permission we’re waiting for doesn’t even have a face — it’s just the old echo of a system that told us good women don’t ask for more.
That fork moment revealed how deep the programming still runs.
Even alone, in my own kitchen, I was negotiating my worth with some invisible authority.
No more.
At some point, the question isn’t “Can I?”
It becomes “Why the hell wouldn’t I?”
Thanks for catching that. You saw the real thread — and pulled it.
Ditto here...I just subscribed because again you are speaking my language along with all those same thoughts running on a loop in my head. Need to let it all go and Be Me because I am a freaking fabulous 👌 woman at 74 and it is totally OK that I need my granite kitchen island to be free of any random items planting themselves on it!!!! Peace and love ❤️ from TX ❤️
I think it’s ingrained behaviour that goes back thousands of years
“You start policing your own preferences.
Judging your own needs.
Minimizing your own comfort.” This! And to think we were taught this is how we must go through life if we were to succeed and gain friends along the way.
OMD, you are speaking my language! I definitely have favourites in everything pretty much.
I hear that voice. Mostly, I hear it AFTER I've said something. Even though folks that love me say they are okay with me as I am, I still chastise myself, or feel guilty for being so 'picky'.
In my family, it feels like some think I'm a snob that I am too high and mighty. But, I like what I like (I am spot-on Taurus in that regard) and when it comes to things like restaurants, I'd rather not eat in them if the food is not better than I can prepare on my own. I don't mind paying for quality. However, if I'm invited to dinner and someone cooks, I will eat what they put on the table.
But, having opinions about quality is always a challenge for me.
I almost always feel too much and that I too freely offer my opinion (which I'm sure some people in my life would definitely agree with). I'm learning to be okay that not everyone agrees with me and that we are allowed differing opinions.
Oh, I see you so clearly in this — the internal voice, the Taurus truth, the high standards that get misread as high-and-mighty.
Here’s the thing: having preferences isn’t a character flaw.
It’s a signal that you’re paying attention to what nourishes you.
And yes, we were trained to flatten that — especially if we were women, especially in families that praised adaptability and called it “love.” But liking what you like is not a crime. It’s a form of self-trust. And it’s okay if that makes some people squirm.
You said it best: “having opinions about quality is always a challenge.”
But what if it’s not a challenge?
What if it’s your compass?
Not everyone will understand it. That’s not the goal.
The goal is to stop abandoning yourself just to make your preferences more palatable.
So here’s to being “too much,”
too picky,
too opinionated,
too unwilling to pretend bad coffee is fine.
Because maybe too much is just code for finally enough.
Yes, yes, yes! It’s a lifetime of conditioning. My mother, when she was alive, used to say I was a very good baby, because I wasn’t demanding, but as soon as I found my voice and voiced my disapproval of things (I once, quite literally, fell asleep with my head on my plate because I wasn’t allowed to leave the table until I ate [but that was a sister, not my mom, who was busy having yet another baby in the hospital]) her opinion changed. Thank you!
I’ve definitely done that too. Maybe I have silenced that voice by now. Discovered the voice maybe 30 years ago. I’ll have to check if it’s really gone.
But choosing the fork you want is also self care. It’s like allowing oneself to go to a spa (if you like that kind of thing, nothing for me, though). Mindful self care. Grounding self hugging.
That’s a tape to toss! I avoid unbalanced forks too.
Right now, I am at a local mall enjoying a cup of coffee and a danish at 5:00 PM. And I’m not wearing any make up. Just enjoying a few moments of reading on my phone. Aaahhhh!😌
I'm now donating those items that simply aren't pleasant to use. Although it's a work in progress - might be just one clothing item per month. But as each item leaves, I feel lighter somehow.
There’s always something isn’t there? I’m the only one in the house that likes coffee and walnut cake, so I never made it, but would choose a badly made one when out, just to get that flavour. Ridiculous. I now make it, cut it into portions and freeze them separately so I can have coffee cake whenever I want! Chuck that damn fork in the bin, or use it to repot your houseplants or feed the cat. And I’ll make another coffee cake!
I'm so grateful this essay and your account were recommended to me by a dear friend because your voice has really spoken to me tonight. I have my own fork mindsets I'm ready to shed. Thank you for a lovely and empowering read.
That means more than you know.
Those “fork moments” are sneaky because they feel small, but they’re where we quietly learn who we’re allowed to be.
The fact that you can already see your own is everything. Awareness is the loosening.
Thank you for telling me this, and please thank your friend for passing it along.
I will, Monica. I’ll be here, eager to see the work your pen offers this year. All my best to you!
Wow - this hit the mark! You could have been writing directly about me. Thank you for an extremely important message that speaks to my soul.
This made me cry. I hear that voice too often. Thank you for reminding me its ok to have preferences. To like the things I like. To make the choices I make that make me feel good. I needed to hear this. Thank you.
"stop abandoning ourselves" 🤯 it is as habitual and automatic as breathing. Silencing with kindness that inner bitchy tirade has been challenging! Thank you for the morning reminder that I matter.
Women are taught from a young age to be people pleasers, the quiet ones, to squelch our discomforts. Trying to make sure my granddaughters don’t fall into that trap!🥰
Dear dear Monica - From my 87-year-old perspective here's some unsolicited advice: throw the bad fork out. Or make it into a piece of conceptual art representing your liberation! Fill your silverware drawer only with forks you like so when it comes to taking one you don't have to choose––they are all "good" forks! If you have an uncomfortable chair, dump it and get a comfortable one. It's time to treat yourself as you would treat your most honored guest. If you won't do it for yourself who else could you trust enough to give you just what you want?