A sort-of friend made some comments, to my face, that strongly implied I am a boring person. Although I'm sure it wasn't said to be hurtful, it cut close to the bone, re-igniting 20 years of insecurity over that very issue, made worse because he is far from the first person to hint at my less-than-sparkling personality and lack of ability to have 'fun'.
Once I'd stopped crying (yes, I really am that pathetic), I was cast into some serious self-reflection, the result of which was that I realised...he's right. Bookish from an age at which most other children hadn't fully learned to read, I've never really been the bubbly, party-going, clubbing, sky-diving sort of girl, and the truth is that it's okay. While I'm not the first person my friends will call when they want a fun Saturday night out, I am often the first person they turn to when the shit hits the fan. My innately serious nature, and an awful lot of years of personal analysis, means I'm able to empathise and offer advice, if and when it is needed.
Spending so much time at home also means I've been able to devote a lot of time to baking, and that skill is never more important to me than when a friend is hurting. Because while partying the night away may be a more fun way to spend your time, for most people at least, nothing soothes a broken heart as well as a great slice of cake, or a piece of creamy cheesecake, or the chewy munchiness of a freshly baked cookie. Even in the happiest of times, a home-baked gift warms the heart and lifts the soul.
And that is why being a baker is so important. We mark the highs and lows in people's lives; we console broken hearts and we help them celebrate momentous occasions like birthdays and marriages. Being able to do that for the people I care about fills me with happiness, even if, ultimately, it is at the expense of being perceived as 'fun'.
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| First attempt at a hen-party cake (for my sister) |
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| Carrot cake for anniversary |
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| My husband and I, out for a meal at Carluccio's |
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