Why I Refuse to Be Shamed for Having Seconds

A couple of years ago I was much more vigilant about going to the gym. I was going five days a week. I did cardio, weights and resistance training. I wasn't prepared for the appetite that came with it. It was like I had a hole in my stomach. I was never full. I tried drinking more water and eating filling foods like beans, meat and peanuts, but nothing worked.

One day I went to a neighborhood diner in Brooklyn and the waiter came over to take my order. I told him I wanted a bacon cheeseburger deluxe very well done and an order of chicken strips.

He asked disgusted, "Are you going to eat all of that?"

I answered emphatically, "Yes! What are you?! My life coach?"

And yes, I did eat it all.

Why are women looked at differently when we want more food? You never hear a guy say,"Dude, slow down. You've already had 10 hot wings."

I'm a foodie. I love food. I love cooking. I love eating. I love experimenting in the kitchen with spices and styles of cooking. The love of food was sparked by my mother.

When I was younger my mother introduced my brother and I to different types foods. We were probably the only Black kids in Bed-Stuy who knew what gefilte fish, tofu and soy milk tasted like. Mind you, this was in the '70s, before they perfected the taste of soy milk. Bleech! But, my mother was insistent that we try new things. She didn't care if we liked it, but she wanted us to at least try it.

Fast forward a couple of years. I was having dinner with a couple of friends at a casual restaurant. Everyone ordered their food. When the waiter put my plate in front of me one of my female friends asked, "Are you really going to eat all of that?"

It's not my fault all of you ordered the salad. I was hungry. I ordered food. Real food. That is the entire point of going out to eat. You eat! My plate of food does not affect you in any way. You are not my life coach. You cannot make decisions for me. You don't know what I've eaten, or not eaten, this week to prepare for this meal. And even if I have, who cares?! I enjoy a good steak every now and again. One cannot survive on water with a lemon wedge and a salad with dressing on the side forever.

Why do we women shame each other over food? So what if your friend is ordering dessert? I say, hooray for her. Take a stand against the second plate shamers. Proudly exclaim that you will have your cake and eat it too. Why yes, this is my second helping. Thank you for noticing.

Next time you see me reach for the big piece of chicken, don't stare. Just pass the hot sauce.