Before this even kicks off, sorry to burst any bubble of thinking this is something sketchy or inappropriate that I’m about to write about. That just ain’t me. But you’re still getting to know me…so let’s just keep this party bus rolling…

But what I DID do tonight was a huge (HUGE) deal for me. Tonight, on the eve of my birthday of my mid-thirties, I accomplished something that I didn’t know I needed to accomplish until earlier today.

I made a steak for the first time.

Before your brain starts into some grumpy, inconsiderate response, this was really important to me. For starters, I’ll be honest here when I say that for a while cooking a steak was a bit gender-specified in my brain. I know this isn’t right, but being raised in the 90’s where every SEARS commercial over the summer seemed to include a Ken doll-resembling man grilling steaks and the most beautiful chicken and fruits on sticks for the rest of his ideal-looking family, I think it’s understandable that this is the standard I held for a while. But I digress. Moving onward.

The term “cooking” in my house growing up was a pretty fluid perception. To give credit where credit is due, my mom would make the most amazing pot roast once every couple months on Sundays that we would devour after getting home from church. My dad, all through my childhood and still to this day,makes some stellar deviled eggs. But outside of these, “cooking” in my house growing up included lots of frozen Salisbury steak, spaghetti (in various forms), pasta or potatoes that can out of a bag (and you just needed to add water or milk!), and mini pizzas that my mom would creatively design using an English muffin, pizza sauce, and shredded cheese. For the record, I was and am still grateful for what we did have. Despite funds usually being very tight, we had our needs met, and I’ll always be thankful for that.

Then, there was the whole being married to a guy who was just an epic cook. No, really, this is the perspective that I (and maybe he at some points held). When we got married, I knew that he was really talented in the kitchen. I wouldn’t say we always had epic meals at home, but just having the skills of homemade chicken parmesan, “throwing together” a cider-braised chicken, and have the responsibility of doing a turkey at Thanksgiving (which my family would devour without mercy, yeah, you could say the bar was set pretty high.

Being married in this environment was anxious to say the least. I felt like the kitchen was off-limits since I didn’t ever feel confident or secure in what I was doing (honestly, just pouring my generic Lucky Charms into a bowl was stressful…). I avoided “his space” like the plague and just drowned in feeling of insecurity and stress feeling like I wasn’t being a good woman. Because the woman was always the one that was supposed to amazing in the kitchen (reference the aforementioned SEARS commercial for clarification), and I just wasn’t. I didn’t know how to make anything. Really, N.O.T.H.I.N.G. I hated it. I hated that I’d succumbed to this feeling of anxiety. And I hated more that I was OK living my life like this.

And then, life changed. We got divorced. It was mutual and amicable and blah, blah, blah, but HOLY COW, I vividly remember having a conversation with a friend after it was finalized and telling her with tears down my face that I didn’t know what to do for food. Food delivery is great, but those charges can add up fast, and single-income funds seem to dwindle SO much faster than the double-income life. She was understanding and empathetic and pointed my towards frozen, already cooked chicken, and frozen vegetables. She was gracious and understanding as I told her I needed an explanation on how to do every step of this meal preparation. Honestly, that’s how uneducated I was on this topic…in my 30’s. And this is was I ate for just about every meal for almost 2 months straight: Frozen/pre-cooked chicken and vegetables in some variety. Because I’m a really party-animal.

I know, I know…I can feel your judgment from here. Be nice…

To be completely honest, though, I get bored EASILY when it comes to food. So I had to change things up, and do it quickly. Yeah, I still do this kind of chicken some days when I get home late from the gym and just want something quick because, let’s be honest, now I’m pretty much a professional at chicken and veggie cooking…bring it on, Gordon Ramsey!) But I have been slowly working on expanding my cooking list. First it started with making my brussel sprouts in the oven…then trying that whole baking deal with red skin potatoes (I know, aren’t I fancy?!). I followed that up with learning how to cook salmon in a skillet, and then tonight happened and can be added to this list now too. I made steak. By myself. And it was good.

Y’all. I hope this enthusiasm is communicated well through this blog post. This mid-thirty year old just make her first steak!! This feels like Christmas. And that’s ok. I’ll take a second to acknowledge how far I’ve come…and so should you. For those who have accomplished something that may seen menial to some, but is huge for you, I see you. For those that are afraid of trying something new because of a label that’s been placed on you, You. Can. Do. It.

This is for all of us. We’re doing great at this whole life thing. Try things you’re wanting to try and pat your self on the back or give yourself a high-five (no really, do it…I’ll wait) for all of the hard work you’ve put in already. Be nice to yourself.