Sharing, Food Insecurity and When, Someone Steals Your Mother Fucking Lunch

Pain, pain, pain…Brene Brown uses this practice to label when she is feeling shame and the seemingly reciprocal need to blame others when pain happens in her life.  I know I’m buggering it up but its in her book Daring Greatly, which I highly suggest.

Today someone stole my lunch and let me tell you it feels just as bad as when I was in sixth grade, and yes I am crying.  Now most people think this is not a big deal, and I suppose compared to homelessness or some such thing it’s not, but the thing is….to me it is a big deal.  And yes I can still afford, or put together something to eat today for lunch, but I really am tight.  But like many Americans, I experience some small bit of food insecurity and when the girl you like, hands you two salads and you think Yeah!!! I have lunch for two days, something good and nutritious that you can take to work for the rest of the week, well its pretty damn exciting!  And consequently when someone takes it for THEIR lunch instead, we have the ensuing Pain, Blame, Shame cycle.

Here’s how it goes:

Pain, Pain, Pain, anger, Fuck, anger, Dammit, What the hell?! (obviously still anger) tears, That was MY lunch!  Despair-What am I going to do now?  Shame-I can’t really afford to replace it…small shame spiral here about how I’m living my life and how is it that as an educated adult I cant afford another salad from Weaver Street Market?  and how unbelievably broke I am after moving just a couple of weeks ago, and omg I don’t have any savings, yada yada…it just goes on.  Insert your own shame spiral here, we all have them.

So not only am I out lunch, I am beating myself up about it.  It makes communal living really hard sometimes.  I like it, and mostly its pretty great and let me tell you the access to land, chickens, community, pet and the like is really fantastic.

But people taking my food…its really tough.  I have a lot of issues about food scarcity and food insecurity from growing up pretty poor in my formative years.  Around the time my mother left my father (they were separated for a couple of years and he didn’t hardly pay child support) she was on Aid for Dependent Children and we were on Food stamps.  The time span wasnt very long a few years, before my mother finished Grad School and got a better job and remarried.  But I was maybe six years old when they split and then nine years old when she remarried.  Those three years of scrimping and scraping, years of scarcity really affected me when it comes to food.

Some twenty years later its a really issue.  And it really hits a terribly vulnerable spot inside me.  We were lucky, I don’t recall going to bed hungry but we ate a lot of eggs, PB and J, liver and spaghetti.  I guess this is why I’m so torqued out of shape by a housemate taking my lunch…

I don’t have many answers today.  But I do know that even with my issues and apparent food scarcity trauma that I am unpacking now, it’s never cool to take what isn’t yours.

I also know its ok to feel the pain of it, even important to feel it and not stuff it.  Some part of me feels a little chagrined, but I give myself permission to feel all the feelings without judgement.

So if there is some pain you are feeling today just know that its ok to feel it.  Label it as pain.  Feel it without judgement.  Give yourself permission.  And then when your done try to let it go.  That’s what I’m gonna try to do.

Good luck luvs!

Author: the1slowminimalist

Writer, Poet, Buddhist, Licensed Massage Therapist and nomadic wanderer.

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out /  Change )

Google photo

You are commenting using your Google account. Log Out /  Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out /  Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out /  Change )

Connecting to %s