someone to cook

Why Learn To Cook When You Can Just Date Someone Who Does?

Being the oldest, I never really had to learn to cook for myself. Yes, I am still asking myself how this happened. My parents fed me what they wanted to eat, then what my siblings wanted to eat, then what was easy. We ate on the run and we ate at home. Food was always the topic of conversation and nevertheless, destination. So, moving out on my own after high school really put the pressure on my ability to adapt. So, I found a guy that liked to cook and made him my boyfriend. He would cook us tacos, vegetarian lasagnas, colorful salads with homemade herb-infused dressings. Emphasis on “he”. I bought groceries and poured beers.


As time moved forward and relationships came to an end, I found myself searching for the next food-filled destination. Then I met my next boyfriend. We dated for a short time before we made the delirious decision to move in together. But hey, someone to cook me food whenever I want? Sure, pack your bags! We ate waffles, onion rings, fully dressed veggie burgers, that brownie dessert that has the chocolate chip cookies baked inside of it… It got to the point where I was like, “Yeah everyone gains a little bit of weight when in a relationship, right?” My brain fogged over, things turned toxic, and all of a sudden, two years later, I was on to the next.


I am now enjoying the single life, eating Taco Bell in my bed at 5 pm. I’ve spent 7 dollars and roughly fifteen minutes in the drive-thru. I am a bundle of crunch wrap supreme joy. I see a text “Want to grab dinner tonight?” I reply, “Don’t really feel like going out.” And the response that would end my blissful self-sabotage… “Can I cook you dinner?”


Throughout the weeks that turn into months, my instant ramens turned into black truffle coconut squash soup. My taco bell runs were infiltrated by the baby arugula dying to be dressed with lemon and olive oil with some grilled veggies and a heap of quinoa. Somehow, this man has taught me how to cook.


Date someone that makes you a better person, not someone that does sh*t for you.



If you liked this piece, be sure to check out When You’re Single In Your 20’s

by aprilshowers

I still remember the day my mom started sleeping in my bed instead of my fathers. I ordered a gin gimlet the other night at dinner with him and he told me I reminded him of her.

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