I wrote a piece for The Crimson this Thursday about my food story. It got more comments than my pieces for them normally would, and I was happy to hear that it struck a cord for some people.
Writing publicly about my personal life is always a tricky balance – what I choose to reveal is entirely truth, but an artfully constructed one that skips over the plot holes and protects the guilty. I’m sure you deal with the same issue every time you choose to tweet something, update your facebook status, or write about a date on your blog. There’s always an inherent danger – whether that’s annoying a friend, an employer, or your reputation.
What I choose to make public is very much deliberate. At the same time, I try to be honest as possible about what I do write about – even when it won’t make everyone happy, or is too acerbic for some. I don’t pretend to know what I don’t, but I’m ruthlessly analytical if I do.
“captain obvious” commented on column, writing: “Uhh, we all like food lady…”
Too bad CO misses the point by about two miles. We all enjoy eating food – it sustains us, after all – but I’m much more interested in how differences in eating habits highlight basic feelings of difference.
Did you feel alienated growing up? (I spent all of my time in front of the computer, basically. Great for developing my employable skillset; not so great for social skills.) Do you get frustrated when eating out with certain people or groups? How did your family’s food culture affect how you see food today?
What’s your real, honest food story?
Share it in the comments.