Sushi and Me

Last night, I ate sushi for the first time in my life. Delicious! (And surprising to most that I’d lived in New York for 15 years and never eaten sushi. More on that later.)

My friends were surprised that as a novice I dove in to all manner of raw fish and enjoyed each piece thoroughly. And hey, bring on the wasabi, ginger and soy sauce!

What my friends don’t get is that I find all food delicious and would eat anything and everything. I may not eat foods that I find troublesome for me, a compulsive eater, anorexic and bulimic in recovery, but trust me, it’s not because I wouldn’t find each and every one delectable.

At heart, I am a compulsive eater. That’s me. I am not discerning, picky or fussy, by nature. It’s a choice to be selective, guys. And a very good one for me.

Re; sushi. I’d stayed away from it because it’s hard to gauge a portion, particularly when eating away with chopsticks. And I really do try to eat protein, vegetable and starch with each meal and thought that work be tricky here. But I had raw fish, veggies and rice. It worked. It was kind of hard to figure out how much was enough. I ate slowly, looking to connect with ‘hungry’ and ‘satisfied’. And it was just fine.

Better yet, I thoroughly enjoyed the beautiful summer evening with dear friends that I hadn’t seen in a while.

Would I pick sushi again, if it were my choice? Don’t know. But if someone else picks it, I’m cool. Yay

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