POETRY
The Joy of Eating like a Man
When pleasure becomes illness
A large cheesesteak,
Double Meat, Double Provolone Cheese
Mushrooms and a Yoohoo.
I love the look on the man’s face
Half pride that I had the gall to order it
Half skeptical that his creation would go to waste.
As I ate each bite, I savored every taste
Confident in knowing it wouldn’t stretch my waist
A tiny victory that I fully embraced.
It didn’t matter that I was on a date
I ate equal to the mountain on his plate
Even though I was nearly half his weight
Each bite remained extraordinarily great
No limitations on what taste can create
I could stomach it all, yet never satiate.
Calories never something to deliberate
Nothing left on the plate, I incinerate.
Decorate my plate with eight pieces and make them fried
I don’t order salads with the dressing on the side
These meaningless wins that I chewed with pride
Mediocrity digested like the food curbside
I was never the smartest, most athletic, or easy on the eyes
But when it came to eating food, my tastebuds were verified.
Don’t compare me to the average female’s appetite.
I’m telling you now, that is far from a fair fight
Like a bear, a fish is a snack — something light
I didn’t bear the typical fear of food — a woman’s plight
The sight of butter would make my heart delight
My favorite identity, I held onto it so tight
It never dawned on me that this might not be right.
I craved the mental triumph of fullness
Ignoring the impact on my wellness
Enjoying a good food coma — the stillness.
Is this experiencing life in all its goodness?
Or I wonder, was this just yet another
Unseen illness.
May each meal you eat nourish your mind, body, and soul.
Thank you, Jamie Varon, for your article, which inspired me to reflect on gender norms in relation to food.
