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My mother didn’t believe in processed foods or fast food, so I have never eaten many foods people take for granted- TV dinners, Chef Boyardee, Kraft Mac & Cheese. This was how my mother demonstrated her affection. The dishes I remember, the ones I love most, are Haitian- legumes, fried plantains, red rice, black rice griyo, or pork marinated in blood orange and roasted with shallots Haitian macaroni and cheese-everything served with sauce (a tomato-based sauce with thyme, peppers, and onions) and spicy pickled vegetables, everything made from scratch. Throughout my childhood, my mother prepared a bewildering combination of foods-American dishes from the Betty Crocker Cookbook or The Joy of Cooking one night, and a Haitian meal the next. Save for the aromas wafting from the gas stove, you would never know my mother was cooking. She washed a dish or cutting board or bowl immediately after it had been used. She was known to add a drop of Clorox to the water when washing meat or fruit or vegetables. Wore latex gloves, like a doctor-to avoid contamination, she said.
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There are those who think we are all lucky girls because we are still, they narrowly assume, alive. This is how I have been wronged.” I’ve been thinking about how so much testimony is demanded of women, and still, there are those who doubt our stories. Or I am thinking about testimony I’ve heard from other women over the years-women sharing their truths, daring to use their voices to say, “This is what happened to me. I have had good relationships, but it’s hard to trust that because what I consider good doesn’t always feel very good at all. Does this make me a lucky girl? Given the stories I’ve heard from other women, yes, it does make me a lucky girl. I’ve never been in a situation where I couldn’t walk away. Since then I’ve never been in a relationship where I’ve had to hide nonconsensual bruises. I work from a place of gratitude for the bare minimum. I look at some of my worst relationships and think, At least they didn’t hit me. And it’s a shame that the measure is what is not so bad instead of what is thriving and good. Since then I’ve had many other relationships and none nearly that bad, but the damage was done.