The Chocolatey Truth

This is a piece I wrote last year and didn’t publish…for some obvious and shameful reasons. It ends rather abruptly – probably I got caught typing it up (haha). Needless to say, I don’t remember abstaining for four weeks…Enjoy.

There’s a certain fact about me that some would say I am in “denial” about. Ha! Denial, me? I am a person who is capable of admitting her mistakes and accepting her imperfections (this did take a very long time to put into practice, though). But this little fact has been gnawing away within the realms of my mind for some time now, and is particularly evident now that I spend a lot of time at home. You see, when I’m home, I am at the mercy of myself. And it is this that has helped me realise that I am my own worst enemy.

I have an addiction. Tell me I don’t after you’ve read this, and I’ll advise you to research the definition of the word. It really came to a head one afternoon when my husband took our little boy and two dogs out for a stroll down the street. I knew I would have 15 minutes absolute maximum to go and grab the washing from outside, clean up the kitchen from the lunch I’d made, and do a quick tidy up of everywhere else. However instead of making the most of these minutes straight away, I became possessed. Some invisible force took over my legs, and walked me into the pantry. This same indiscernible energy forced my right hand from it’s dangling position, to surge forward to the shelf. Unknowingly, my fingers latched onto something silver in colour and retracted to safety, in front of my stomach. My legs reversed the rest of my body from the pantry and before I knew it, I was at the kitchen bench again. On it, were the remains of a block of 70% dark chocolate, and a small plastic jar with a chocolate hazelnut spread inside. NOTE: This spread was NOT Nutella; I do not condone the use of palm oil in any products because of the devastation the production of it causes. I don’t recall collecting said jar from cupboard, but it obviously happened at some point.

Now, like an addict working hard not to be caught, I got started.

Two pieces of chocolate into ceramic dish. One teaspoon of chocolate spread dolloped onto chocolate pieces. Microwave, 30 seconds. Check with teaspoon. Microwave, 30 seconds more. Check…perfect. Add broken up biscuit, mix.

EAT. How long before they’re back?

The moment I knew I had a serious problem was when I checked out the kitchen window more than three times to see if my family were returning. What was I even worried about? It’s not like I would be in trouble for indulging in this little treat. That’s when a second realisation occurred…it was judgement I was hiding from. Did I enjoy my little treat? Yes. But it was tarnished by the fact that I was working to a clock, like a sneaky criminal doing a nasty deed. What even, is that dessert? And, how about this for some accountability. I have done this more than once. Last week it involved some cream mixed with the chocolate to make a ganache. And you may well be wondering, (as am I) why I would choose to share such a shameful and hideous truth. Why not maintain the wondrous façade that some people believe, that I am indeed perfect in every way. It’s because I know that change needs to occur. I can’t live like this, secretly wishing there were no forms of chocolate in the house as I pile a fourth tablespoon of milo into the milk.

Husband suggested we take on Dry July this year and I succumbed. But in fact, there is no challenge for me in abstaining from alcohol for four weeks. I have an eleven week old baby, for crying out loud. I can’t exactly go crazy on the drink anyway… I think we all know what I really need to do.

That said, I am going to attempt a whopping four weeks without ingesting a modicum of chocolate or anything chocolate related. When I think about this challenge and the fact that it will actually be a test, I know I am doing the right thing. I have shared this information with you in order to hold myself accountable. Why else would I allow myself to be seen in such a light, likened to a junkie feeding her disgusting little addiction?

– unfinished –

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Gabrielle Gassin View All →

This blog is a compilation of some of my thoughts and dreams that have marinated for long enough that I can form sentences with them.

I am the mother of one toddler and one pregnant belly, the wife to one man, a friend to many, a sister to two and a daughter. Recently returned from eight months in Europe, having fulfilled a long anticipated dream of living in France.

"If you can't say something nice, don't say anything at all."

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