I forgot to put oil in the chocolate cake.
I’d greased pans, sifted flour, and covered myself in cocoa powder in an effort to perfect this recipe. And now there was absolutely no fat in the cake.
Well, shit.
I thought this- I didn’t say it out loud. Because I don’t cuss in front of my mother and she was three feet away from me in the kitchen when I had my realization.
Since I couldn’t cuss about it, I tried to think it through.
Could I take the cake pans back out of the oven and mix in oil? No. After looking at the kitchen timer, they were too far along for that to make sense.
Could I throw out the cakes and try again? Well, yes. But I don’t like food waste. And we were done making desserts. You just don’t backtrack during Thanksgiving prep.
I wanted to have a temper tantrum about my failings.
I could feel myself spiraling, and my anxiety over this cake creeping up into my throat, making a knot that threatened to spill over in tears.
Then, in the midst of panic I thought “Cake is for joy. What the hell, Sam?”
So, I decided to just but I decided to just wing it and move on. Worst case scenario, I had made plenty of icing. And icing adds moisture, right? Right. This isn’t the Great British Baking Show. Maybe it’s just not that serious.
It occurred to me that I was putting way too much pressure on the holiday. I was using this cake, and really all of Thanksgiving as a way to prove something to myself.
If everything was just pretty enough, I would be okay.
I could prove to myself that my anxiety was under control, and that depression wouldn’t creep up on me the way it had last winter.
I was an adult with a healthy self-care routine (and not the frou frou bath bomb kind, but the bill paying, meds taking, budget balancing and showing up to work even without a boss kind.)
Look at me Mom, I’m thriving. Here’s Thanksgiving dinner! Doesn’t this Pinterest inspired tablescape say “healthy and happy” to you?
But aesthetics don’t always prove things. A curated Instagram and Pinterest isn’t reality.
I know this to be true. I tell clients and friends this all the time.
As a doula, I’m with people during what are simultaneously the most beautiful and challenging moments in their lives. I accept hard truths for a living.
Orgasmic births are exceedingly rare.
Most women poop while pushing out their baby.
Very few babies sleep like angels from the beginning.
Lots of couples fight as their marriages go through shifts and challenges during the early postpartum phase.
Maternity leave and parental leave are isolating. And going back to work can be just as tough.
Life is tough, y’all. And honestly, in the scope of hard things, leaving oil out of a cake or Target skipping Thanksgiving decorations and moving on to Christmas (rude!) is a small potatoes problem. I knew this.
And yet I still had to remind myself to let go and relax. Holidays aren’t about perfection. Neither is beauty.
Some of the most beautiful, loving things that we do are inherently imperfect. Preparing meals and breaking bread with loved ones. Birthing babies. Growing our families.
They’re about joy, not achieving some unreasonable ideal.
So, in case you forgot too, let’s aim for progress and authenticity, not perfection. For the rest of this holiday season and beyond, let’s not scrap the cake. Let’s just savor joy, family and homemade chocolatey deliciousness!
Because, wouldn’t you know it, just like so many births I’ve seen, the cakes turned out pretty good.
And pretty good, with lots of love and joy, is always better than sanitized perfection.
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