I Don’t Like Fruit

Yes, you read the title correctly. I don’t like fruit.

Really, I don’t.

Yes, I’ve tried all kinds. I eat any fruit that is served to me because my mama raised me right.

But I do not enjoy fruit.

I know that fruit has nutritional value, and I’ve even been known to buy myself a bag of clementines for a road trip or eat a package of fruit snacks for a pre-workout boost.

I don’t despise it.

I just don’t like it.

And usually, when I tell people this, they don’t believe me.

“Even such-and-such?!” they say incredulously, naming whichever fruit is their own particular favorite.

Yes, even that fruit. Even the fruit you can’t get enough of, straight from Michigan or Florida or whatever state makes the thing that you like. Fresh. Frozen. Fake flavor. In ice cream. On yogurt. In pies.

I do not like it, Sam I Am.

It gets to the point where I don’t bother telling people most of the time because I don’t feel like trying to convince them that I don’t like something when that thing has zero moral value. It’s not like I go around saying, “I don’t like brunettes.” Or, “I don’t like people whose names start with F.” No fruit is being harmed in this situation. I have never once had an offended pineapple approach me and question my life choices. And if the fruit doesn’t mind, why do you mind?

And here’s the thing. If I feel judged and like I have to defend myself over fruit, then how safe will I fell to disagree with you about something that actually does matter?

I am not exempt from doing this type of judging. In fact, I recently huffed and puffed over a coworker’s love of golf (a very boring sport to watch, in my opinion) just because I could. We all do this sometimes.

What I’ve been thinking lately is: why? Why do I (and others) feel the need to question personal preferences to the point of making people feel self-conscious or attacked? It’s golf, for crying out loud. If anyone ever died from golf it was from boredom. Let the golfers swing their little metal sticks in peace.

These things do not matter. But I act as though they do. And by acting that way, I cause people to feel unsafe about sharing big things that we disagree on – religion, rights, you name it.

Now, sometimes these petty disagreements are funny. When both people are in on it, there’s nothing more hilarious to me than two of my friends arguing over something that matters not at all and pretending to be mad about it. I’ve taken part in more than one highly enjoyable but heated debate about what constitutes pizza.

But when one person is on offense and the other on defense…it’s not great.

Do you find yourself and others doing this? If so, what do you think about it?