i love food. 

i love buying it.

i love cooking it.

i especially love having it cooked for me.

i love eating it.

 

there’s something so satisfying about selecting a recipe (either a new one, or one you know by heart), purchasing the ingredients, preparing them and putting everything together to create a delicious dish to share with loved ones or enjoy alone.

 

i would be lying, though, if i said that my relationship with food has always been an easy one.

 

i’ve lived through an eating disorder; through the judgement of people telling me what i should and shouldn’t put into my body.

 

i’m fortunate though, in that i’ve had the right people around me to help me come out the other side and realise that what i eat, is my choice.

 

i very much believe that food is fuel and that the majority of the time, you should choose to give your body the best fuels you can – lots of fresh fruit, vegetables and lean protein.

 

i also believe that food is so much more than fuel.

 

it’s a social thing.

 

it’s a romantic thing.

 

it’s a thing of pleasure.

 

it’s enjoyable – in the preparation and the eating.

 

it’s appealing to all of the senses.

 

and so, i don’t believe in restricting what i eat too much.

 

i will happily eat a plate of lightly steamed broccoli with lemon juice, pepper, salt and a hint of olive oil.

 

i love going out for asian food to enjoy stir-fried bok choy with garlic sauce.

 

hot chips are my kryptonite – i can never say no!

 

i eat far more gelato than most people say i should – and have no regrets about that.

 

i also think that if being vegetarian/vegan/gluten free/paeleo/fruitarian/a raw foodie works for you – then that’s cool too. it’s not the life for me, but if it’s what makes you feel the way that you want to feel, then go for it with everything you’ve got.

 

what i don’t advocate for, is putting guilt onto others for their choices.

 

don’t lecture me on the ills of consuming too much sugar when i’m drinking a can of coke.

 

don’t tell your friend that she should give up eating meat because you have an objection to the meat industry.

 

don’t laugh at that girl at work who is vegan and tell her she’s being ridiculous.

 

don’t roll your eyes at that friend who orders an off-the-menu meal at your favourite restaurant to accomodate her low fructose/low carb/low protein diet.

 

people make food choices because it’s what they feel is best for their body.

 

not mine.

 

not yours.

 

not anybody else’s.

 

theirs.

 

so, don’t share a recipe with the intent on converting someone to your way of eating – share it because it’s delicious and you want other people to enjoy it!

 

don’t share a photo of a green salad so that you can hashtag it with #cleaneating – share it because you thought it looked so good you couldn’t help taking a snapshot!

 

don’t preach to others about why your way of life is better than theirs – humanity has been around for thousands of years and we’re not dead yet. there is no one best way to eat.

 

don’t write a blog extolling the virtues of your latest teatox/cleanse/diet to get likes, sponsors or followers – if that’s why you’re blogging, maybe writing isn’t for you.

 

instead, just focus on you.

 

what makes you feel good.

 

what makes you happy.

 

what has you thinking “i can’t wait for breakfast/lunch/dinner”.

 

listen to your body; what it likes and what it doesn’t, the cravings you have and the things you enjoy eating.

 

i promise you – you’ll be happier for it.

 

ash xo

a few weeks ago i turned 26, and my life is both everything (and nothing) like i thought it would be.

i very distinctly remember being a teenager and thinking that by the time i was 25, i would have it all figured out.
i’d be married.
i’d have a career i was passionate about, preferrably in the legal or journalism industries.
i’d own my own home.
i’d have traveled extensively overseas.
i’d be interested in things like good wine, thought-provoking novels, serious tv shows and home decorating.
i’d have money in the bank.
i’d have a wardrobe of quality clothing, each piece selected with purpose.
basically, i thought i’d have my shit together.

but that’s not even close to where my life is at right now.
i’m not married.
i’ve traveled to just one place overseas and on the next opportunity i get to travel, i’m going back there.
i’m interested in home decorating… but still don’t drink, love trashy novels and teen fiction, video games and my idea of good tv is a post-apolcalyptic drama or game of thrones.
i have some money in the bank – but not as much as i’d like.
my wardrobe is… well. i have more clothes than i’ll ever need and yet none of them seem to match.
i do have a house, though.
well… actually, i have the promise of a house in months to come.

i’m actually okay with that, though.

when i was 15, there was no way that i could’ve predicted the life experiences i would have had by the time i was 25; i’m certain that if i had, i would’ve spent the next ten years hiding under the bed.

it’s those life experiences that have shaped and changed me, almost completely derailing the idea of who i thought i would be now.

the great news? i like the person i am now.

becoming comfortable in your own skin is one of life’s hardest lessons and i’m lucky – i’ve learned it early.

i’m a 26 year old that’s a child at heart.
i love the same pop-punk music i loved at 16, interspersed with lady gaga and some regular top-40 tracks.
i love books more than ever and am delighted when i get to tell people my house will have a fully-stocked library when it’s built.
i love clothes. not because i feel a need to look a certain way, but because it allows me to express myself and my moods.
i love video games and got a nintendo ds for my most recent birthday.
i love my family, even when i want to hate them.
i love food – both the healthy kind, and the kind that makes you have a heart attack just looking at it.
i love to sleep.
i’m a little quirky – and i’m so okay with that.

i’m 26 and would have no idea how to change the spare tyre on my car.
i can’t iron. full-stop.
i hate sweeping, mopping and dusting… but am completely okay with scrubbing bathrooms.
i love to cook and bake but make a terrible mess doing so.
i try to remember to make my bed every morning.
i forget to pay my phone bill on time a lot.
i have purchased 1000 thread count sheets for my new house.
i have no idea how to get utilities connected.
i’ve never lived out of home.
i still need my mum when i’m sick or fight with my boyfriend.
i’m committed to driving manual for the rest of my life.
i can grocery shop like nobody’s business.
i have a wardrobe that is partly hung and pressed and beautiful folded… and partly a tangled mess on the floor of my boyfriend’s apartment.
i have no debt, other than my home loan.
i’d love to spend most of my days curled up in bed with a good book.

i’m not what you’d call a proper adult… but i get by.

when my mother was my age, she was full grown up. she owned her own home. she’d never paid a bill late in her life. she was working a stable job in a career she was good at, for a company she’d worked for since she was 18. she was probably very good at things like laundry and kept her house really clean and knew how to mow the lawn.

sometimes, it scares me that i’m not capable of all that just yet.

and other times, i realise – it’s fine.

i’m fine.

i’m comfortable with who i am, where i’m at and where i’m headed.

i’ve got clear goals for what i want out of my life for the next 1, 5 and 10 years… and i’m comfortable with the fact that i won’t achieve all of what i set out to do.

i’m not worried about the things i don’t know how to do, the information i don’t have or the people i haven’t met yet.

i just treat each day as a fresh start and a chance to do something better today than i did yesterday.

and most of all… i’m happy.