In my formative years I admired the women that I saw in the media and magazines like most little girls, but one feature I truly desired was breast. Having breast would make me a woman. Gratefully for me, I had an older cousin and an older brother who sought to help me on my journey to becoming a woman.
My trusting and loving kin taught me that eating jalapeños, hot sauce and anything hot would get me the bosom I so desired. They fed me concoctions of hot sauce and peppers. What agonizing pain I endured until I told my mother, in some kind of way, that the “titty grow” was not working. Needless to say I no longer ate hot sauce and peppers in order to grow breast because my mother stop my cousin and brother from giving me this concoction.
My mother told me I would grow breast in time, and all females would grow breast- it is a part of nature. She gave me a hug and told me to be patient. I didn’t go throw the phase of wanting breasts again until middle school. I never talked about the hot sauce concoctions, and I didn’t eat hot food. It was not until I open my mouth and told my story of why I did not like spicy food that I begin to be able to laugh about this period in my life.
My point is, once I begin to talk about my painful memory, I started to actually eat mildly spicy food. The liberation of sharing my uncomfortable story was similar to peeling back an onion and exposing the ugly truth, hence leading me to try spicy foods. So, I tell my story unapologetically, and I encourage you to share yours.