Wouldn’t it be great to think about food less and enjoy it more?
To allow food and wine to be the pleasures they’re meant to be in life?
When we are malnourished, in mind, body, heart, or soul, our body knows it. My body knew it, but for decades, I was too busy to feel. Control was my food relationship, achieving was my life, and dieting framed my days. Looking the part was more important than anything going on within. At 37 I was sidelined by motherhood and frustrated by the surrendering it entailed.
I wish to share with you my story of food and body and love. To do so has required that I become a writer. The tools of my career in software development—hard-driving management, project plans and deadlines—don’t work with creative endeavors. It sucks the life right out of them. I have found a new way.
I write so that you, and I, will not feel isolated and alone. I write to bring joy into our food culture. Someday I will offer you the book I am creating. Until then, I take comfort in these words from Cheryl Strayed, “You are a writer because you write. Keep writing and quit your bitching. Your book has a birthday. You don’t know what it is yet.”