As much as I wish it weren’t the case, the size and shape of my eating utensils has a direct and considerable impact on my mental health. Normally, I prefer to use only small spoons, reserving big spoons for times of only dire necessity. This preference had never really caused any issues for me, especially inside my own home. However, this all changed when I hosted a dinner party with some of my closest friends.
I, being a dedicated and caring host, made sure all of my dinner guests were supplied with the tiniest and most worn spoons I owned – my friends’ comfort obviously being my top priority. I didn’t even think about which ladling utensil I’d be forced to utilize until I was faced with a silverware drawer filled with nothing but big spoons and grossly misshapen forks.
In short: It was a disaster, and I had no one to blame but myself.
My sensory issues were immediately triggered upon picking up one of the big spoons. I might as well have been holding a shovel for how disproportionate it felt in my hand. It was a real Alice in Wonderland situation, if Alice was 26 years old, extremely sensitive to textures, and had a living room full of friends she now deeply resented.
It was, quite frankly, a bad time – the dinner party was immediately ruined for me, but, still, for the sake of my guests, I had to put on airs. I had to talk about House of the Dragon, for God’s sake, while in the middle of full-blown sensory overload.
After the party ended, I washed all of my good spoons and put them lovingly away, condemned my big spoons to the top of my highest shelf where I’d never have to see them again, and swore to never again host more than five people at my house at any one time. Nothing is worth having to manhandle a utensil crafted for a giant for the better part of an hour. I value my own happiness more than that.
However, in spite of everything I had just gone through, the thing that disturbed me the most about this whole scenario was that some of my guests had to use the bad spoons too – and they didn’t even care! They just went about eating, talking, and enjoying themselves. Some of them even laughed – with the spoon in hand!
It made me realize that I just don’t truly know some of the people I consider my closest friends – and maybe I never will.
