This is going to be a long one. Bear with me. It all leads somewhere. I promise.
When I was a little girl, I didn’t love my food very much. I was extremely picky with what I ate and that made things even worse. My mother had the unpleasant task of forcing me to eat whenever it was meal time. I hated the taste of onions, couldn’t bear the sight of vegetables and didn’t enjoy the taste of millet bread very much. Basically didn’t enjoy just about everything that was good for me.
It wasn’t until I turned 11 or so years old that I started trying to finish my meals but only because I was often told that I was too skinny and that once I joined high school, older girls would find it much easier to bully me than any other girl in the freshman class.
I believe it was in my early teenage years that I began to truly appreciate food. Being in boarding school changed so much. It’s like my taste buds were being awakened for the very first time. So many girls at school had mastered the art of making their food taste so much better with all kinds of spices and oils and I just loved food. Because of this, and possibly also my raging hormones, I gained close to 20 kilos within the next four years. I think most of it within the very first years of high school.