Raahi came into my life at a time I was developing greater awareness of the ways in which I had been conditioned to behave – as a woman, a date, a potential partner. We met via Tinder and I was charmed, although I didn’t see the relationship blossoming into anything more serious than friendship. Even without the pressure of trying to impress the human of my dreams, I was wholly lacking in the ability to assert myself and my tastes, opinions, and desires.
Three dates in, we found ourselves on the patio of a stylish Mexican restaurant in downtown Oakland: Calavera. It was a cool September evening, and I ordered a margarita in an attempt to postpone autumn’s arrival just a little longer. We began to discuss dishes to order. When Raahi asked whether I liked ceviche, I felt my gag reflex engage; out of my mouth, I heard the word “Sure!” When he asked which ceviche sounded best, I said “Any of them” instead of “None.” When the server arrived and Raahi picked not one but two types of ceviche to try, I smiled, panicking only slightly about how I was going to find my way out of this one.
I was being the agreeable, pleasant, sweet girl the world – in so many ways – had programmed me to be. But now, in addition to feeling disgusted by the two orders of ceviche, I felt disgusted by the timid shell of a human I had just demonstrated myself to be.
The ceviche arrived and I nibbled on corn chips and poked around the puddles of lime juice, desperate to avoid the cold seafood that swam within it. After some time, as Raahi grew full, he looked at me, puzzled. “Do you not enjoy ceviche?” he asked. I tentatively admitted that it wasn’t my favorite, but that I didn’t mind it (a half-true statement). When he said, “You should have told me!” I nodded.
“I know,” I replied.
It has taken me years to unprogram the knee-jerk reaction of appeasing, appeasing, appeasing. Appeasing everyone but myself. Everyone, but especially men. And, most of all, potential partners.
Raahi, thank you for shining a light on the dark side of my agreeable nature. I now know that a healthy, fulfilling relationship – of any kind – will require me to value my own opinions enough to share them with the world.
Note: this story has a happy ending. My tastes have changed, and I now love ceviche. For real.
