When I first moved to Boston, I had this silly image of myself as some hot, high-powered career bitch, probably wearing a pencil skirt with some incredible heels, but maybe with some hipster glasses to show people that I have a (not-so-)secret life as a writer. I hate Starbucks coffee, but I’d still get a cup every morning. I’d go out to lunch with my work friends every day and eat salads with expensive and hard-to-pronounce cheeses on them. I wouldn’t even look at the bill when I got it.
As it turns out, I’ve pretty much given up on wearing heels to work and sometimes forget to change out of my snow boots into flats. I wear long underwear underneath my work pants. I can’t afford new glasses. I bring breakfast, coffee, and lunch to work almost every day to save money. While most of my other coworkers do the same, I think I’m the one who does it the most, even in the new building with a relatively inexpensive cafeteria just one floor above.
Generally, it’s not a problem. We’re all on different eating schedules, and everyone is usually too busy to see straight anyway. But I notice that, in the city, people go out for lunch way more than I’m used to. I admit—it’s tempting. There are tons of good restaurants within walking distance. Packing your lunch and hauling it with you for your commute is not a fun time. I went out frequently for the first few weeks of work, and then I decided I wanted to be able to afford rent.
The problem was, I also wanted to make friends. Every now and then, I don’t mind saying that I brought lunch and am going to eat at my desk. And with the new cafeteria, it’s easy to bring my lunch and eat with the people who want to buy theirs. But what to do when you brought lunch, especially on a Friday, and everyone wants to go out? The salad I brought won’t be good the next day, so then I will have spent more on a lunch out and wasted money throwing out expensive produce. And I’ll probably choose a not-so-healthy option. (I don’t like going out to eat and getting a salad unless it’s a really amazing salad. Why would I pay someone to make something I could make at home with iceberg lettuce that has about as much nutritional value as water?) On the other hand, how many times of me saying, no thanks, I’m going to sit at my desk and eat, does it take before people stop inviting? I’m not sure I want to find out.
Here’s what I have discovered: people don’t like it when other people are eating healthy. I catch myself doing this all the time—at a birthday party, or at the bar. If someone says no to a piece of cake or another drink, I usually call them out. “Why not? Give yourself a treat! Live a little!” I selfishly need them to participate in the bad decision in order to validate my own. On the one hand, it’s a really sad life if you don’t ever let yourself eat cake. On the other, why does the other person’s decision need to reflect my own?
You think that I would be more understanding, because I’m a hypocrite: I don’t like when others do the same thing to me. If I say I brought a salad, I don’t like it when others roll their eyes or tell me that they know I went to the gym that morning, so why shouldn’t I come out now? I think the dilemma comes from the fact that eating is at the same time a very social activity and a deeply personal one. When you make plans to meet with a friend, isn’t it usually to eat or drink? Many people I know (myself included) don’t want to eat dinner at a restaurant by themselves. Yet, at the same time, food choices are immensely personal, reflecting individual tastes, things you love and things you can’t tolerate. And on top of everything else, what we eat is affected by social pressure. When I’m the only one at the table who orders dinner, or who orders chicken strips and fries instead of a salad, I feel the need to say that I did go to the gym this morning, or that I ate healthy all week. Or, the only girl who orders a salad needs to counter and say that she is trying to eat healthy. And then everyone either responds with a chorus of “Oh, I should be eating healthy, but I’m not!” and taking a bite of the hamburger, or “But you look great!”
As I’m writing this, it occurs to me that I’m only speaking about women. Men, I’m wondering: do you have this kind of tension when you’re eating? My guess is no, but perhaps you have just as many insecurities as we do.
So, I’m stuck with a catch-22 and lots of unanswered questions. Does eating lunch at my desk while others go out make me unsociable, or frugal? Is wasting a lunch to spend time with work friends really so bad? And, most of all, why do women (and maybe men too) feel they need excuses for the way they’re eating (whether it’s healthy or not so much)? While brown-bagging it to work might be more sensible, it makes it easier for me to read at my desk. Perhaps there is a reason why eating is our go-to social activity.
In the meantime, I am leaving the airport with a Dunkin’ Donuts breakfast sandwich for my dinner. And I will pretend not to care what you think.