Dec 12th 2021,
So when I was growing up as an Amish child, I learned how to bake all of these things and make all of these foods and we had this one cookbook when I was growing up and let me explain to you one of the costs of choosing to survive and thrive rather than live my life as a victim and continue to hurt myself as well as eventually kill myself.
The Amish cookbook we primarily used had a recipe for biscuits on page 19 called: Biscuits Supreme.
My egg donor did not like biscuits and gravy so we rarely ever made biscuits, one time when I was around 13 I was at our neighbors and was there for breakfast. The parents were not there, and when these girls knew I didn't know what biscuits and gravy were. They made biscuits and gravy for breakfast.
It was delicious.
But again, rarely as in I don't remember being able to make them after that more than twice because my egg donor did not like biscuits and gravy.
Which was fine, but I digress.
When I decided to report the abuse. I thought I gave up any chance of ever having that specific cookbook my egg donor used to teach me to bake and cook.
About a month ago, I was looking at cookbooks and it just so happened, I saw it. The same cover, the same publisher etc. I ordered a copy for myself.
It arrived here recently. The first recipe I made from this cookbook again was the potato puffs. My family was like these are even better than they normally are. Me: yeah. This is the recipe I grew up making.
The second one is today.
I made biscuits supreme and gravy. It was so delicious. The nice crispy and fluffy edges. The entire biscuit was so fantastic. I have no idea how I went at least 17 years without eating this bite of heaven on earth.
I ate and savored every single bite of the 3 biscuits I ate.
Y'all, I went at least 17 years and 11 months without having my favorite foods because I chose to report.
I chose safety.
I chose to live and love, I chose a happy life.
And I choose to continue doing that in a way that doesn't harm my soul.
No regrets. None. Zero.