You know what I hate? Food! Not all kinds of food, but most likely, I hate the kind of food you like. But what I hate even more than food is people's reactions to how I hate food.
See, I am a picky eater. Through some joke of genetics or acculturation, I ended up with a pallet that recoils at things like...flavor. Or spices. Or anything that falls out of an incredibly narrow spectrum of tastes and textures. I try, I really TRY to like these things that my relatives, friends, well-wishing strangers and so forth shove at me, but I just...can't.
It tastes bad. I find it really strange how people react to this. There's usually disbelief ("How can they NOT like this?"), followed by a kind of blame or insult - especially if the person in question actually cooked the food in question. Like it's somehow MY fault that I don't like what they cooked. Well, if I had a choice, I'd love food. I'd eat all kinds of food and think that they were delicious and perfect. It'd mean I'd be a lot less hungry during family reunions, it'd mean that when I go out with my friends for food, they wouldn't get increasingly exasperated as I turn down their various choices.
In the grand pantheon of horrible things that you can be afflicted with, being picky is that bad. I could be missing all my skin, for example. But it is annoying, and I don't really see a way of fixing it.
This is just what has been bugging me the past few days.
So, next time you meet someone who is picky, try and imagine what it is like to be surrounded by people who love tasting things that you never will.