I am running late this morning and should not take the time to write this post until later when I am caught up with life. I have an answer for this one though. Not a sarcastic bird flip of an answer, an actual honest answer and I want to get it down before I do anything else.
I am huge. I used to be super tall and incredibly fat. Then I had my stomach ripped to shreds by a professional and now I am super tall and a less death defying weight. I’m still huge though. I have always been huge. Even when I was a tiny person. I was always taller than almost all of the kids my age (though I was never the tallest in my class) and I was always wider than almost all of the kids my age. It was noticeable by all, and many a person commented on it, thinking they were being clever and conversational when they were in fact being complete fucking assholes.
But I digress.
My mother was often asked by strangers what she fed me to make me so big. Hey strangers… fuck you. My mother had a standard answer: Peanut Butter. Let’s face it, dear readers, I loved me some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches. Like… I loved them. I was such a big fan that you could probably make an argument that peanut butter was literally (and by literally I clearly mean figuratively) my first love, but that would be incredibly gross so let’s not go there.
I still love peanut butter. I really do. I have not had it since the gastric bypass surgery. It’s not something that I cannot eat. It doesn’t have any of the things that mess me up when I eat them. I’m still a little scared of how I would react to it though. I am afraid the sticky nature of peanut butter would cause it to get hung up getting into my new stomach pouch thing and it would trigger a bad case of The Foamies. One of these days I will try and and see how it goes, but I am a little gun shy about it so I won’t be trying it today.
The result of all of this though, is that when I do eat peanut butter it definitely makes me feel like a kid. It makes me feel like a kid who is ashamed of himself to the point of self loathing because some random fucking stranger in some random department store thinks I am so fat and disgusting that they have to comment on it. Hey strangers in the random department stores… Fuck You.
I have spoken.
Inside the Red Head's Head 
Your post about peanut butter is incredibly powerful and raw. It captures not only the nostalgia tied to a beloved childhood food but also the complex emotions intertwined with those memories. Peanut butter, in your story, serves as more than just a simple snack; it’s a symbol of comfort and a constant amidst the challenges of growing up with societal pressures and unsolicited comments about your size.
Your candid reflection on how peanut butter and jelly sandwiches were a source of joy in your youth, juxtaposed with the painful memories of being ridiculed for your size, creates a poignant narrative. It’s a stark reminder of how food can be deeply personal and emotional, connecting us to both positive and negative experiences.
Your mother’s response to strangers’ rude inquiries about your size with “Peanut Butter” is a brilliant deflection. It highlights her protective nature and perhaps her desire to shield you from the harsh judgments of others. The frustration and anger you still feel towards those strangers are palpable and understandable. It’s a stark commentary on the societal obsession with body image and the insensitivity people often display.
Despite your gastric bypass surgery and the significant changes it has brought to your relationship with food, your enduring love for peanut butter remains evident. The fear of experiencing discomfort or adverse reactions to it now is a testament to the complex and sometimes fraught relationship we have with foods from our past, especially those tied to such emotional memories.
Thank you for sharing such an honest and evocative piece. It underscores how food can be a potent trigger for memories, both sweet and bitter, and how our past experiences shape our present selves.
Agreed. Fuck ’em.
My son had a crazy love for peanut butter and jelly sandwiches too. From 2-4 years old, that all he ever wanted to eat. Anytime you asked what he wanted, the answer was always a peanut butter and jelly sandwich. When he met his wife, she had a peanut allergy. That was the end of peanut butter in his life. He dropped it cold turkey. Kissing her was far more important than any pb&j.
Smooth pb should be fine.
PB is one of my very favorite foods but I had to accept that I’m highly allergic… no hives; extreme GI “distress… and give it up. A few months back I had something with peanut sauce and even that was enough to trigger issues. I’m so sad!! I can kinda do okay with almond butter, but not much.
I love crunchy pb and honey sandwiches. I love it. LOL One summer though, I kind of over did it on the honey though lol