strawberry sensitivities

and taking big bites outta life

I only lasted an hour. We were supposed to be there all afternoon, but I only lasted an hour. Who knew strawberries could be so disappointing?

It was June of 1983. I was ten. We were at a strawberry u-pick. In reality, the strawberries were not disappointing, I was.

Initially I was neither disappointing nor disappointed. Initially, I was hungry. I must have been a bit too hungry. At the time, I figured that it shouldn’t matter - my hunger that is. I was in a field of food.

As a ravenous ten year old with a sweet tooth, I descended on the strawberries like a wildebeest on the carcass of an impala. My face was ruddy and dripping strawberry juice. That poor u-pick owner didn’t realized what they were in for when they unleashed me on their plants.

I guess that’s why u-pick farmers charge retail for the privilege of working for them. It’s expensive because of massive losses to greedy-gutted children.

Knowing their patrons, u-pick owners should also stock Claratin and barf bags.

That’s why I only lasted an hour. I over served myself strawberries resulting in an improvised tie dyed t-shirt. Pink was never my colour, but the shirt didn’t seem to mind.

On top of my stomach issues, I broke out in a rash caused by contact with the plants themselves. I whined. I moaned. I begged, pleaded and pouted. Finally, I started really causing trouble and forced my mother to take me home.

Though I only lasted an hour in the field, my reaction to that day lasted decades.

For almost forty years I found strawberries to be ‘problematic’. I would eat some then start sneezing. One strawberry would make my guts want to run out of me, into the toilet then through the plumbing as far as possible. One strawberry was too many.

I broke up with strawberries. Sure, from time to time I might have one. They tasted great, I just didn’t trust them. I liked how they felt going in. I did not like how the behaved once they got there. Over time, I eventually gave up on strawberries.

Our back yard is currently bursting with strawberries. We’re picking almost three pints a day with no end in sight. When Laura first planted them five years ago, I was skeptical. I believed that many strawberries would be enough to cure all of us from strawberries forever.

That’s not what happened. Last week I began with just one berry on the first day. On the second day, I ate a handful. By the third day, I ate a quart. I am happy to admit that I did this without vomiting or diarrhea. That’s right, I ate a quart without a squirt so now, I can eat strawberries for desert.

Much of therapeutic work is encouraging people to try strawberries again. Sure, Your experience was no fun. You’ve embarrassed yourself through your indulgences. You’ve been hurt as a child.

But ya know what things in the world change more quickly than the story in your head do.

What ‘strawberries’ are you avoiding?

How can you face something that hurt you as a child with adult eyes?

How can you get back to taking big bites of life once again?