"I Don't Like Cooking"

My Confession: I Hate Cooking

I've always been the odd one out in my family. While my siblings and cousins would gather around the kitchen island, eager to help with meal prep, I'd be the one slipping away to my room, eager to escape the chaos.

Growing up, my parents would try to involve me in cooking, hoping I'd develop a passion for it like they had. But every attempt ended in disaster. I'd mess up the measurements, overcook the vegetables, or worse, set the kitchen timer on fire (true story).

As I got older, my distaste for cooking only intensified. While my friends would excitedly share their latest culinary creations on social media, I'd be the one liking their posts with a mix of confusion and envy. Why did they enjoy something that felt like torture to me?

I tried to convince myself that I was just lazy, that I needed to push through the discomfort and learn to cook like a "normal" person. But the truth was, every time I stepped into the kitchen, I felt like I was trapped in a nightmare.

It wasn't until I moved into my own apartment that I finally accepted my culinary limitations. I embraced the world of takeout and meal delivery services, reveling in the freedom to never again slave over a hot stove.

But as I approached my 30s, something strange happened. I started to feel a twinge of regret for not learning to cook. I'd watch cooking shows, mesmerized by the chefs' skill and precision, and wonder what it would be like to create something delicious from scratch.

One day, I decided to face my fears and take a cooking class. It was a disaster, of course. I managed to burn the rice and overcook the chicken. But as I sat around the table with my fellow classmates, laughing and commiserating over our mistakes, something clicked.

I realized that cooking wasn't about perfection; it was about experimentation, creativity, and community. And maybe, just maybe, I didn't hate cooking as much as I thought.

I still don't love cooking, but I've learned to appreciate its value. I've started experimenting with simple recipes, and while my dishes may not be Instagram-worthy, they're edible (mostly).

My journey with cooking has taught me a valuable lesson: it's okay to not be good at something, and it's never too late to try again. And who knows, maybe one day I'll even learn to enjoy it. (But don't hold your breath).

As I continue on this culinary journey, I've come to realize that cooking is not just about following a recipe, it's about understanding the science behind it, the technique, the patience, and the practice. It's about experimenting with new ingredients, trying new methods, and learning from my mistakes. And most importantly, it's about sharing my creations with others, and enjoying the joy it brings to them.

I still have a long way to go, and I'm okay with that. I'm okay with being a novice, with making mistakes, and with learning at my own pace. Because the truth is, cooking is not just about the food, it's about the journey, the process, and the people we share it with. And for the first time in my life, I'm excited to be in the kitchen, to be experimenting, to be creating, and to be sharing my love for food with others.

My kitchen is now filled with laughter and music, as I chop and sauté my way through new recipes. The aromas of fresh herbs and spices fill the air, and the joy of creation is palpable.