I shoveled another disgusting bite into my mouth and chewed mechanically.
I'd cooked the chicken breast and vegetables almost a week before, so it emitted a sour stink when I opened the container from the fridge.
"Some heat will shock it back to life," I thought before nuking it to death in the microwave.
No luck. The chicken was so dry I could barely swallow it, and the vegetables tasted like melted mush.
I kept eating anyway.
I'd gotten into the habit of mass producing food every Sunday to save money and time. Once Friday rolled around, most of my meals––like this one––had kicked the bucket.
What I left behind in this process was not only the pleasure of eating food I enjoy. I completely neglected the necessity to treat myself well.
But my rationalizations ran deep.
"Better than spending 10 bucks on takeout," I thought.
Was it though?
I thought back to a concept I'd learned from Jordan Peterson: "Treat yourself like someone you're responsible for helping."
A question entered my mind: "If I had a guest here with me, would I feed them this nasty old chicken and vegetables? If I were taking care of one of my nieces or nephews, would I feed them this food?"
The answer was an easy no. So then why was I allowing it for myself?
Somehow I'd convinced myself that I can "handle" shitty living conditions, as some notion of strength, frugality, and other misguided ancient Nordic wisdom.
By forcing myself to eat old food that I did not enjoy, I got to reinforce a martyr complex to myself.
"I am sacrificing for the better of my future. If I save money now, I'll have a better life later."
Maybe that was true, on a literal financial level.
But what about the story I was reinforcing to myself? That I deserve to eat tasteless old food as long as it saves me a few bucks.
That story and its side effects were far more damaging to my future wealth and health than my frugality was beneficial.
Now when I see myself or the people I love making unnecessary sacrifices in the name of frugality or strength, I say:
"You deserve better than to eat food that's fallen on the floor."
"You deserve better than to take a 9 hour bus ride to save 50 bucks."
We don't deserve better because of some inherent entitlement or privilege, but because you wouldn't allow someone else to treat you to those conditions, so why would you accept them from yourself?
Once I realized this, I threw out the last half of that chicken and vegetable meal and got a chicken bowl from the Korean place across the street. It cost me $10 that I wasn't prepared to spend on dinner that night, but the story it reinforced to myself was infinitely more valuable:
"You deserve better."