A few days ago, my boyfriend and I decided to cook something for dinner as a date activity during this quarantine – I naturally chose to make dessert, while he was tasked to cook up some chicken alfredo pasta as our entree. I had researched so many recipes the week before, but because of the flour shortage, I opted to make a no-bake cheesecake.

Now, I've never made cheesecake before. Cheesecakes to me were a rare treat, the type that you would only have when the opportunity presented itself at restaurant menu cards, or if it was the surprise dessert to a lunch or dinner meal. I've eaten pretty amazing ones, but I've also had my fair share of disappointing and sad cheesecakes that I could only take one bite out of – remembering all my past experiences made me somehow intimidated to actually make one, but I went for it anyway. The craving was too great to ignore.

Fast forward to that Saturday afternoon, while fumbling through the recipe, dropping spoons, and doubting my culinary knowledge, I was making side comments about how I wasn't sure about what I was doing.

Do you think these are stiff peaks?

I'm not sure if this looks good...

I think this tastes okay...?

I'm not sure....?

I think...?

My boyfriend, who was busy crushing Oreos behind me for the past 10 minutes, and who heard my whole one-sided conversation, stopped and told me something I've heard someone else say in the not-so-distant past —

You're being very non-committal right now

If I had one negative feedback about me, it was that I always seemed unsure about what I was doing, even if I knew I could do it. I had always been very lukewarm about my opinions and didn't stand strongly with them. Even until now, I'm still haunted by what my English teacher told me when she was introducing the idea of journalism – if an issue had two sides to it, it's best to pick one or the other, but never be in the middle or you'll get caught in the crossfire.

If it were real, I would've been dead long ago.

Is it a defense mechanism? Absolutely. Is it telling of my character? Sure. But in my defense, I've never been confrontational either. It might be a cultural or family trait, but I find it very hard to argue and fight back. These past few years, both the anxiety and the desire to please people have made it harder to speak up about a few things. More often than not, it's become a source of a few heated arguments with friends and family – and yes, I still sometimes think that the silent treatment can and will fix things. I suck at communication – but only because I'd rather let people win than convince them otherwise.

But do I believe in myself enough? Yes. Please don't assume that just because I struggle with my opinions, I automatically default to not having one. By default, I just decidedly pick the harder, more self-incriminating route, but by no means have I ever just come up blank.

I still made a cheesecake, and it turned out pretty good.

Thanks for reading till the end! This is still somehow new and experimental, so if you'd like to drop a message (even just to say hi!), get in touch with me here – I would be absolutely thrilled to hear from you!

#PersonalEssay