The Shrimp You Didn’t Want
The Struggle Between Desire and Denial
Have you ever stopped to wonder why you crave the things you can’t have? Maybe the answer isn’t in the “why,” but in the freedom that comes when you stop chasing what’s out of reach.
The Forbidden Orange
A few years ago, my sister Heidi took a food allergy test. While I was allergic to nearly everything, she came out with a near-perfect list, except for one thing: orange.
At first, she was surprised. She had been drinking orange juice for years. Over time, though, she would casually mention how she wasn’t supposed to have oranges anymore. She could eat hundreds of other fruits, yet orange became the forbidden fruit.
The Shrimp We Never Wanted
It reminds me of Robin from How I Met Your Mother. She was allergic to commitment and marriage—she didn’t want any of that “stuff,” including kids. But when the doctor told her she couldn’t have children, she was devastated.
It’s like shrimp. You don’t care about it, don’t even like it, but once you’re told you can never have it, suddenly, you crave it. You cry over something you didn’t want in the first place. You feel sad not because you wanted it, but because it didn’t want you back.
Breaking Free
We all have those things. That sucky job you didn’t get. That subpar date who didn’t text back. That party invitation you didn’t receive, to hang out with people you don’t like. Maybe something even more ridiculous. And in those moments, you feel rejected, hurt, and hopeless.
I was walking through my neighborhood the other day, thinking about my own “shrimp.” I used to have one, but I’m not that person anymore. What would bother me now? Honestly, not much. I've been through fire, transformed by experiences that left their mark. The military training that nearly broke me but made me into a first lieutenant. The countless nights spent studying, mastering skills I didn’t have. The heartbreaks, the lessons, the wealth, and the losses. Every experience shaped me, sometimes by choice, sometimes by fate.
I wonder if missing out on the shrimp—or the orange—really matters. Maybe it's a symbol of the distance between me and life’s random temptations.
So, what’s your shrimp? What’s the thing you still crave, even though it’s never really been yours? What are you holding onto—a failure or mistake that isn’t even you anymore?
The Final Bite
The hardest part isn’t not having it; it’s realizing you never needed it in the first place.