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After the Ovation & What’s for Dinner?

Today I completed an acrylic painting, titled “After the Ovation.” This painting is representative of the dual experience of a woman’s pressure to perform versus who she is behind closed doors, after the performance has come to a close. Even with all of the accolades that surround her, there’s an essence of loneliness, defeat, and exhaustion that is represented in her body language.

After the Ovation, acrylic on 16×20 thrifted canvas

Today’s prompt also reminds me of pressures on women.

What’s your favorite thing to cook?

I despise cooking. I have a lot of baggage around it. Growing up, I always had to prepare all of my own meals and I would eat them in solitude. This was my experience as far back as I can remember. I was responsible for loading the dishwasher, so I would use as few dishes as possible. I mostly microwaved canned goods and frozen foods and I would often prepare Chicken Helper with canned chicken, or make bagged yellow rice.

I never received that whole food-is-love thing. Food was loneliness, food was obligation, food was another chore alone. Now that I’m an adult I have a hard time cooking for my family, because this time I’m in charge of other people but it feels just as lonely and I’m still not good at it. When I’m not good at anything else, I try to find ways to improve, but this small thing feels so big.

In the past, I’ve felt shame that I’m not a good cook. Why can’t I figure out how to do something that people everywhere do all the time?? I would send myself into a shame spiral that was tough to get out of and I would cry.

My husband is a fantastic cook. Really superb. But a year ago he changed jobs and stopped being available ahead of dinner time. We’ve been ordering take out a ton ever since. I hate all of the plastic waste that accompanies this habit.

I’d really love to reprogram myself around food. My dream is to invite women and their kids to my house, groceries on me, and cook together so I could learn some things and I could feel connected to another adult instead of the pressure of being needed in ways that I didn’t have a role model.

Hopefully one of these days I’ll make it happen.

Returning to the thought on womanhood, another part of the shame around not being able to cook is that the task is defaulted to me, because i am a woman, though I am least qualified.

To be bad at cooking in this patriarchy is to be bad at being womanly. I can’t stand that.

I do like to pack lunches. You can’t screw up cutting things and putting them into a bento box. These are some cute ones from preschool.

What do you think?

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