The Surprising Effects of Learning How to Cook
Transforming outdated beliefs one meal at a time.
Photo by Tina Dawson on Unsplash
The first time I made macaroni and cheese, I didn’t know to drain the water before adding the orange powdery mix.
I was eight and could read, but was already impatient with written directions.
Growing up, an only child of a single parent didn’t provide opportunities for a full pantry or culinary lessons. I was typically alone, scrounging through the kitchen to stifle my hunger.
In our house, having an actual meal wasn’t the norm. I would dig through the cupboards pulling out arbitrary cans and boxes that could add up to dinner.
Since my mother worked random jobs, and often at night, I ate green beans or potato soup directly from the can. Not finding it necessary to dirty a dish.
My favorite meal was taco shells dipped in peanut butter washed down with a tall glass of frozen concentrated orange juice.
There weren’t a lot of options in the cupboards and even less in the fridge. Money was tight, and there was palpable stress around food.
Indifference
When I became a busy, working adult, I had a bit of money and choices on what I ate. The truth was that I lacked the skill and motivation to prepare meals for myself. Breakfast was usually a frozen waffle or a protein shake, and I often ate out for lunch and dinner.
Food wasn’t important — just necessary.
I often wished I could take a pill that would replace all the vitamins, minerals, and nutrients required for sustaining life, and I would never have to worry about eating again.
This is how emotionally scarred and avoidant I was with food. Long after I left my childhood home, I still carried stress and shame of food insecurity in the form of indifference.
Ever since I can remember, I had a disdain for meat. The texture grossed me out. It felt boingy in my mouth like chewing silly putty. I was five years old when my parents stopped badgering me to eat it.
So, I was vegetarian but not healthy by any means. I ate easy — often soup, frozen meals, and granola bars. I can’t tell you how many boxes of cheese Bagel Bites I ate during college and well into my 30s.
Fresh food was intimidating, and preparing a nutritious meal was way out of my league.
Moreover, I didn’t understand that food could be a joyful avenue to connection. It carried a nerve-racking connotation and was a daily reminder of my incompetence.
Time for a Change
Looking back, I had a handful of health challenges that I believe were caused by poor diet, childhood trauma, and stress. I didn’t have the emotional skill set to stop and question the cause of my illnesses.
Once a year, I would either get really sick or have surgery. Each time it felt like bad luck, an inconvenient obstacle to overcome, not a systemic pattern to investigate.
I’ve been an athlete all my life — making it even more confusing how I sustained the energy needed with such lousy nutrition.
As I got older, my fitness routine went through seasons of inconsistency, and not surprisingly, I started gaining weight.
When peanut butter, carbs, cheese, and an occasional banana make up 80% of any person’s diet, the consequences are a doughy physique, no matter how much time is spent in the gym. I was no exception.
When the scale showed I was overweight, I knew it was time for a change.
I came across a book about clean eating that seemed doable. It was one of those strict eat-this-not-that 21-day regiments. I had never done a cleanse before but was eager to test its alleged impact.
The book suggested cutting out meat, dairy, processed foods, flour, sugar, and alcohol.
For me, the hardest part was cutting out dairy. While I hadn’t eaten meat since I was a child, I did consume cheese, yogurt, and milk almost daily. I felt like my already limited food options were shrinking substantially.
Fortunately, within a week, I saw differences in my digestion and complexion. My gut challenges subsided, and pimples became nonexistent.
For a gal with lifelong digestion issues, this was the main selling point. I became vegan and didn’t look back.
Choosing
Sometimes it takes me a while to learn the real lesson at hand. Resilience can be counterproductive at times.
I adjusted what I ate by removing all animal products from my diet. Yet, I still consumed lots of processed foods and ate out multiple times a week.
While I had shifted the scale back to my typical weight, mostly from exercise and simply not eating, I still hadn’t learned to have a healthy relationship with food.
I was avoidant and dismissive. My shame of not knowing how to cook and feelings of overwhelm from the thousands of recipes kept me frozen in fear. There were too many choices, so I chose none.
This was around the time I began my recovery journey and started taking better care of myself. I went to therapy and weekly meetings and began forming a healthy relationship with myself, which included my relationship with food.
I met my now-husband, and we started living together. Adam is not vegan or vegetarian, and my weird way of eating was intimidating.
Thankfully, Adam was open to the idea of trying new foods. In his thoughtful manner of nurturing our relationship, he bought us a few vegan cookbooks to try.
As I leafed through the books, I could feel my anxiety rise. The recipes listed various spices and ingredients that I had never heard of, let alone owned or knew how they tasted.
Before I tried a single recipe, my internal critic was rousing suspicion and casting doubt on this new culinary adventure.
Nevertheless, I knew I had to try. Start with something easy. How about a soup or stir fry?
Metamorphosis
From the moment I opened the cover, Angela Liddon’s cookbook Oh She Glows seemed to align with my nutritional aspirations.
Her recipes are a well-balanced mixture of beans, lentils, and grains, as well as fresh fruits and vegetables. Angela doesn’t rely on processed faux meats to be the so-called center of the plate.
What I love the most about her book are the multiple layers of spice curation. Previously, my spice rack consisted of salt and pepper. I never dreamed I would make a meal using cumin, coriander, cayenne, paprika, and chili powder as well as fresh garlic and ginger.
For years, I was stuck in a cycle of shame triggered by my ineptitude.
When I started to question my beliefs and investigate my habits, I began to take responsibility for my healing. Through this work, I became willing to take on the endeavors of meal planning and preparation.
As trivial as it seems, I had to learn that I’m capable of selecting a recipe, grocery shopping, and following the instructions to make a tasty meal.
One by one, these recipes eased me into cooking and gave me confidence in the kitchen.
Cooking dinner together has become a labor of love for my husband and I. It gives us time to connect and chat about our day while we listen to music and dance around the kitchen.
When the reward is so delicious and nutritious, cooking doesn’t feel like a chore.
Making wholesome meals, snacks, and treats has become a delightful form of self-care. It doesn’t have to be a holiday to prepare exquisite food. In our house, every meal is a special occasion.
My dietary revolution has led to a variety of healthy habits. The shame surrounding food has been removed. And I no longer have anxiety about what to eat or how to prepare it.
I consistently nourish my body with fresh, nutrient-dense foods that give me the energy to enjoy a richly active lifestyle.
Over the past few years, I’ve gone from avoiding the kitchen altogether to inviting people over for dinner on a regular basis. I’ve come a long way from that gal who only ate from boxes and cans.
Today, my three-tiered spice rack is a monument to self-love and a testament of personal transformation.
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Rebecca Murauskas is a high-performance Life Coach. She helps people be free of stress and overwhelm, reclaim their purpose, and feel fulfilled. Rebecca and her husband, Adam, abandoned their careers and moved to Panamá in 2019 to pursue passions for helping people heal. Take the free Time Saver Quiz and find additional content at RebeccaMurauskas.com.