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Courage means being afraid of something and doing it anyway.

Being afraid of being imperfect or of failing is something that we need to overcome in BPD recovery. Check out Katie’s story.

Cooking has historically been a series of steps that I just couldn’t be bothered with. First, you have to choose what to cook from the MILLIONS of recipes online and that’s not even a hyperbole. You’ve got to figure out which ingredients you already have, which ones you need, make yourself presentable enough to go to the store, actually GO to the store, then wander around trying to find everything you need, navigating all the other people. Oh and don’t forget, ruminate about how you will probably just forget something, anyway.

So….just (insert preferred food delivery service here) instead, right?

It is easier, I’ll give you that.

It’s also missing out on some serious magic. Hear me out. The magic of life is in the moments. The moments are found in the mundane. Getting ready to go to the grocery store is the opportunity to put on your favorite outfit. Driving to the store is the opportunity to listen to your favorite song. Making pancakes is an opportunity to do something for your family or yourself, just because you love them.

When I tell you the first batch was gross, I mean it was gross. They were slimy, I used way too much oil, not enough heat, one side burnt, the other side not cooked enough. I’m talking, let’s just toss that in the trash gross. I stood in my kitchen feeling so defeated and shame spiraling into, “I’m not good at anything, I can’t even make freakin’ pancakes.” I am learning, the only way to stop that voice is to do the “thing” again. I fought against the bully in my brain and made another batch. They were much better. The next day I experimented with the recipe a little, adding a second banana to see if it would up the sweetness. The third day, I got a little confident and started adding and subtracting things, just because I could, after all, what was the worst thing that was going to happen? I could just make another batch.

The fourth day was a nightmare. I wanted to lay in bed, I wanted to be mad, I wanted to be justified in feeling bad enough that one day off of pancakes wouldn’t be a big deal, I would try again tomorrow. I wasn’t justified and it would be a big deal to take a day off, because I promised myself I wouldn’t. I had a goal that mattered to me, so for a few minutes, I got up, went to my kitchen and made my pancakes. One foot in front of the other, one ingredient then the other. I cried while I stirred my ingredients, and when the first one didn’t cook evenly, I even stomped my feet a little, but I made the pancakes. I started to feel a little bit better. Even on the dark days, I had to show up for myself.

The last day, I was stirring the pancakes and got the idea to add some honey. It was the missing piece. I had figured out how to cook them and what they needed to cook evenly. They were delicious. Even my 2 year old agreed with me, so I know they were actually good.

I did it. I can confidently say, I can make pancakes, from scratch. While the list of things I can’t do is a lifetime long, I gotta say, getting to find out what things I CAN do is way more fun.

I hope you try the pancakes, and find a little moment of magic in the process. Cheers! -Katie B.