Monday, October 18, 2010

A Shocking Confession

I have a confession to make.

I know some of you will be shocked, and others will just sit silent in stunned disbelief, but I must unburden myself of this terrible secret.  I must confess.

I don't like bell peppers.



There, I said it.  I don't like bell peppers.

I never have.  For most of my life, I believed that there was something inherently wrong in this.  This may trace back to a conversation I had with an older relative, back when I was bout 7 or 8.

"I don't like bell peppers," I said.

"You don't like bell peppers?!?!" this older relative exclaimed, staring at me in horror as if I'd suddenly grown a second head or sprouted a third eye.

"What's wrong with you????"

After that, I began to take notice.  It seemed to me that everyone else liked bell peppers.  At least, everyone in my family did.  Everyone but me.  My mother even remarked, "I can't believe you don't like bell peppers." 


 For years, I thought there was something wrong with me because I didn't like bell peppers.  I was ashamed.  Embarrassed to admit that I didn't like bell peppers.  I even went so far as to tell people that I was allergic to bell peppers, so I wouldn't have to admit the humiliating fact that I was defective.  So that I wouldn't have to risk hearing the inevitable question, "What's wrong with you?"

Because I didn't like bell peppers.



It wasn't until I was well into my 30s that I finally was able to admit out loud to a living person that I didn't like bell peppers.  For the first time since that verbal slap I received when I was a child, I actually stated out loud that I didn't like bell peppers.

And you know what?  There was no shock.  There was no horror.  There was just acceptance.  It was OK. 

And I began to think that maybe there wasn't something wrong with me.  That I'm not somehow defective because I don't like bell peppers.


And I found the most wonderful freedom.

So, here I am to say it again.  I don't like bell peppers.


And you know what?  There's nothing wrong with that.

.

6 comments:

Sus said...

Hehee! I think they're fine, but I don't ever particularly crave them or anything. My thing is that I don't like dark chocolate which, when I was young was considered normal and right but these days garners the kinds of looks of horror you describe.

Becky said...

That's funny, because when I was young, I was the only person I knew who DID like dark chocolate. Which was good because then I got all the Special Darks out of the bag of Hershey's miniatures.

Patch said...

That's okay Bec, I'll forgive you for not liking bell peppers if you can forgive me for not liking raw carrots...or radishes. Cooked carrots are okay, but raw? Blech

(PS I'll never like them with no matter who looks at me funny)

Becky said...

YOu're forgiven, Patch. For what it's worth, I'm just the opposite as you. I like raw carrots, but can't stand them cooked. I'll eat them if they are in something --like a pot pie or a vegetable lasagna-- but to eat a pile of plain cooked carrots, that won't happen. I do like radishes, sometimes. Depends on my mood.

BTW, I filled out a reference thing for your security clearance. One of the questions was something like, is there any reason this person should not have this job? I snickered and started to put down, "Well, she's afraid of frogs!" I didn't, though. I was good. But it was hard.

Patch said...

LOL Becky, I think that would have been okay. After all, if "afraid of frogs" is the worst thing they can say about me... ;)

(PS it's not a job app, we're getting new name badges at work so everyone has to go through a full security investigation of our whole lives *sigh*)

Becky said...

I had to go through one of those when I was in the Navy. They even asked how many traffic tickets I'd had.

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