A plate sat in front of me. It contained a portion of my Thanksgiving dinner: olives and baked brie. Meant to be an appetizer and no more. But it was significant to me.

I had gotten a diagnosis for my current health issue weeks before. I was battling significant gastritis from stress the entire time. Unable to properly eat and having to avoid sugar and fat when I felt I could. It was only a few days prior I had been able to eat a little bit of sugar. Fat was the main irritation though. And what sat in front of me on a fancy crystal appetizer plate was fat and a lot of it.

With zero hesitation I began eating. Yes, I could blame greed. It smell rich and inviting. The cheese was visually appealing as well. Gooey but maintained in a crust that gave a satisfying crispy crunch with pressure applied. There was no way I was about to miss out on that.

I could also blame fatigue. Eating a severely restricted diet is exhausting. Rice, yogurt and fish becomes uninteresting quickly and temptation becomes harder to ignore. Maybe I was simply done with it all and ready to break despite the consequences.

Somehow though, it was more than that. Wrapped up in the unassuming shape of baked cheese was something more important. I had the idea that this special time might be different. Healing attainable after such a struggle. Maybe the stars would align in this small way for me just this once.

I am glad I was right.