When you’re 32 you think you have everything figured out. Well, letsbehonest, I’ve probably felt like that since I was 13, but I was never foolin’ anyone but myself. This realization was painfully obvious when I started my new job. And not for reasons one would think, like learning new computer systems, absorbing tons of program info…nope! It was when I started packing my lunch.

I’m a total creature of habit (proven here and here) especially when it comes to my lunch, but I knew that around 3:30 every day I’d feel a blood-sugar lull. And since Diet Coke has been out of my system since November (CAN YOU BELIEVE IT?!), I decided to go with an apple.

But here’s the deal, I didn’t know which kind of apple I really liked. For years, I’ve stared down the produce aisle, reading descriptions, but usually just end up picking what’s on sale or what sounds good. I’ve had good apples–never bothering to remember what I was trying from one week to the next–but, most of the time I suffered from major apple disappointment. To me, there’s nothing worse than a soft, mushy apple. #theworst

It was imperative to me, as a 30+-year-old, to know what apple I like best. I treated it like a life mission.

Have you seen Runaway Bride, the very distant second-best movie starring Richard and Julia?

In it, Richard proves that Julia doesn’t know who she is because she doesn’t know which kind of eggs she likes.

And when she’s ready to show her commitment to (Spoiler Alert!) him, she tells him flat out: I like Eggs Benedict. It sounds silly, but it’s really a very sweet moment.

This is a really horrible montage with Chinese subtitles, but it covers the most important parts:

Well, here’s our grand reveal: I like Gala apples. And Joe likes Fuji.

It took us a few weeks, but consider our testing complete. We’ve both found the perfect combination of tartness, sweetness and crunch for our tastes. It’s liberating. I don’t feel like my not-knowing for so long was due to any man-hopping like in the movie, but just a general unawareness of me. A total result of going through the motions and not really caring.

But, here’s the kicker. Ever since I came out with my Gala-apple-love-affair, I’ve been one happy lady every afternoon. I never have to worry if I’m going to like it and, I know this sounds crazy, but I feel really satisfied knowing what I like…in essence, who I am.

It’s a bit liberating and I want that assurance and confidence to flow into other parts of my life.

“Red Delicious apples are red, yet not a bit delicious. I’ll never buy one again.”

“I hate books set during the Civil War. I won’t read another one.”

“I like mayonnaise, not Miracle Whip like Joe. It’s okay to have both in the fridge at all times.”

Let’s take a stand on who we are and what we enjoy! And stop wasting time and apologizing in any form over something we don’t like. (I’m giving myself a pep talk here.)

Next stop on my testing train is…eggs. Just like in the movie. Except I grew up thinking I didn’t like eggs and have only had them scrambled…ever. And usually piled high with veggies, cheese and salsa. (I really hate anything that tastes eggy–french toast, bread pudding, souffles..so this could be a short test.) Am I missing out on life’s greatest treasures? Doubtful you can sell me on the hard-boiled variety–I blame my sulfa allergy, but what ways do you prefer you eggs? I don’t think I can even name them all!

Sunny Side Up
Over Easy
Over Medium (?)
Poached
Fried
Deviled
Benedict (I already love Hollandaise sauce.)
Cadbury

What am I missing? Will I like runny yolks? It’s an anxiety I didn’t know I had, but what better time to figure this out than before Easter. I think my first stop will be Pioneer Woman’s Egg-in-a-Hole. There’s something about the safe embrace of a piece of bread that makes me think my first foray away from scrambled will be okay. I’ll be taste-testing in the privacy of my own home, but will keep you posted. You’re all on pins and needles, I’m sure.