Trying new foods and recipes has never really been my thing. When I sit down to eat, I just want to like what I’m eating. I want to feel safe. What if I spend forty-five minutes cooking something that tastes like ass? But at the root of not wanting to try something new is fear. In the case of food—not a huge deal. But, what am I denying myself when I shy away from facing other kinds of fears?

Lately, I’ve been trying to just grab the paprika because even though I don’t know what it tastes like, I might actually like it. Another fear I have is flying without the children. Because it’s important to be there for our family, G and I are going to have to get on a plane without the kids. I’m also trying to encourage myself to have difficult but meaningful conversations with loved ones, because I want my relationships to be as open and honest as possible.

The people I look to emulate are open to all life has to offer. While I’m not going to go skydiving or start eating seafood anytime soon, I don’t have to always play it safe. I can take some risks. This week it’s paprika. Next week I might go crazy and let the foods on my plate touch. I’m kidding…sort of.