What's In Your Kitchen

You ever have a taste for something specific? You can already taste it, already smell it, you get that big smile on your face just thinking about how you're about to tear this meal up. You get yourself all hyped up. Okay, today's the day, I'm making this. You get to the kitchen, start pulling out ingredients, and then, damn. I'm missing this one thing.

These days, I'll just Instacart the missing item and keep it moving. But there was a time that would've taken a lot more effort. A time I might not have even had the means to go out and get it. And in those moments, craving the thing anyway, it would push me to get a little creative. Okay, what can I supplement this with? Versus just not cooking the meal at all.

That's the same thing that happens with the harder stuff in life. When something hits you, and I mean the kind of hard that doesn't give you time to think, there's no shopping trip. You don't get to go pick out the perfect ingredient for the moment. You reach for whatever is already in the kitchen, and you make it work.

Here's what's actually happening in your body when that moment comes. Fight, flight, freeze, or fawn isn't a decision. It's not your logical brain weighing options. That part of you, the prefrontal cortex, the part that reasons things through, isn't the one driving in a real threat. Something faster and older takes over. And whatever response is already wired in is what fires first, whether that's standing your ground, running, shutting down, or smoothing things over to stay safe, and whether or not it's the response you'd choose if you had time to think.

So when a coping skill gets labeled maladaptive later, I want us to slow down before we make that judgment. At the time, it wasn't a poor choice among many. It was what was in the kitchen. There was no recipe book. Most of us didn't grow up with someone sitting us down and saying, "When this happens, here's what you do." Your body used the intelligence it had access to in that moment, and it got you through. That deserves respect, not shame.

Making something out of nothing isn't a new instinct. It's an old one. It's been passed down.

During slavery, enslaved people were given the scraps. The cuts of meat considered undesirable. Whatever rations were cheapest to provide. They didn't choose those ingredients. But what they made with them became something that has lasted for generations, dishes people still cook, still crave, still call comfort food today. Nothing about what they were given was chosen. Everything about what they made with it was intentional.

Now we also know some of those recipes carried ingredients that have caused real health problems in our communities over time. For some of us, that's meant learning to swap certain ingredients out for healthier options. And I want to be honest, not all of us have access to those healthier alternatives either. Sometimes what's actually available to you, then and now, still shapes what ends up on the table.

That's the through-line I keep finding. Whether it's what was in the kitchen generations ago, or what's in the kitchen right now, the outcome can still be real. Can still be good. Can still be something to be proud of.

None of this means scarcity is the goal. It's not that having less makes you stronger, and it's not that you should stay in the kitchen you started with. The work now is building new tools, giving your body new information and new options, so if you're ever back in that moment, you're not limited to the one response that was available before. You still know how to cook with scraps if you ever need to. You just get to have more to work with now.

The strength that got you here is real. It doesn't have to cost you your ability to feel, or your ability to keep growing.

This is the first of what I'm calling Inherited Strength. More to come.