There is someone else in my kitchen cooking me dinner.

The kitchen is my holy place. I know where things are. I know how everything works. All the quirks and tricks of each knife and appliance. Having someone else in the kitchen wouldn’t bother me if I hadn’t been kicked out and told to go do something else and wait for dinner.

But, but, you’re in MY kitchen!!

I suppose the larger point here is that I am allowing another person in. In my kitchen, my home, my life. She wants to cook me a birthday dinner and I let her. It has been a long time since I’ve let someone into my life – allowed them to see and experience the real me. But she’s being gentle and understanding. And slowly but surely I am opening up and exposing more of my life to her.

It’s scary, but I’m remembering how nice it can be to have someone else around to care for and fuss over you. She is welcome in my kitchen for now – we’ll see how well she cleans up to determine if she’s welcomed back!

 

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