The Banana Split
On ritual, intuition, fear, and allowing myself joy.
The Banana Split
Once a year, I allow myself one banana split.
It can be from any ice cream stand. I get all the original fixings: ice cream, strawberries, whipped cream, nuts, and cherries.
I savor every bite.
Bites of strawberries with chocolate ice cream. Whipped cream with banana. Vanilla ice cream with strawberries. Banana with whipped cream. Occasionally, a bite of everything mixed together.
If I have one cherry, I eat it first.
If there are two cherries, I eat one at the beginning and one at the end.
I always finish the bananas, strawberries, and cherries. I feel like that’s the little bit of health in it.
I feel so much joy, satisfaction, and childlike excitement.
This is not an impulsive dessert.
It’s a ritual.
I spend most of the winter not even thinking about my banana split. I’ve actually gone years forgetting.
Usually, I don’t think much about ice cream at all because, honestly, it tears me up inside. Gas, stomach pain, all over inflammation. I love dairy, especially cheese, but other than goat cheese, I don’t enjoy how it makes me feel after I swallow it.
And no, I’ve never been diagnosed with dairy intolerance by a doctor.
This is because I listen to my body.
If I eat something and it causes an adverse effect, I avoid it.
That simple.
That easy.
And yet, for some reason, my yearly banana split doesn’t bother my stomach at all.
I think it’s because of the pure joy I have about eating it.
My cells light up. They accept the goodness in it and are not bothered by the excessive sugar or dairy.
Maybe that sounds strange.
But I’ve learned over my life that staying healthy has never felt terribly complicated.
The body often tells the truth long before we ask someone else to confirm it.
And maybe that’s why the banana split feels like more than dessert to me.
It feels like permission.
A small yearly ritual of trust.
A reminder that joy does not have to be complicated.
That sometimes we know exactly what we need.
And so, I think the banana split is a representation of me allowing myself simple joy and acceptance.