Never Enough

I was willing to improve my cooking skills, but at my own pace. Whenever my Ex was cooking, she usually asked me to assist her. I tried at the best of my capacity, but when I was tired or not in the mood, it would overwhelm me. I didn’t ask her that she cooks for me and suggested that each of us can prepare something on their own. I could just eat a sandwich or heat up frozen food or something like that. Unfortunately, that wasn’t acceptable for her. “But we are a couple and we eat together,” she once said, implying that we have to eat the same dish.

Whenever I invited her out to a restaurant or for takeaway, she almost always complained afterwards that she didn’t like the food. I told her that I had little incentive to cook on my own for her, because I sensed that she would probably not like it either. “I would never say that,” she replied. I remember three instances that would test that assertion:

1. I made frozen fish. She thanked me sincerely and added the accurate remark that the fish doesn’t taste much like fish.
2. I made soup from scratch. She said: “it’s not that good,” but ate a portion anyway. When she saw me eating another portion, she told me not to torture myself. She didn’t realize that I actually liked the soup.
3. I made a bean salad. She commented that we found a dish that I’m good at.

Her words and actions didn’t align. There was an underlying theme of devaluation and control. She made me believe that I’m bad at cooking. There was a truth to it in the sense that her cooking skills were stronger than mine, but I felt that she used it to tease me. Over time, I would feel more and more incompetent when it comes to cooking. Subtle devaluation is a common pattern in covert narcissistic abuse. From today’s perspective, I believe she used a skill that she was better at than me to boost her ego at the expense of mine.

I didn’t consciously realize the control and devaluation, but I felt it intuitively and protested subtly by commenting her meal choices, e.g., with “I like it… as a side dish” or “it’s good, but not worth the effort that went into it.” At one point, she started an argument: “A man [from her country] wouldn’t complain about what his wife has cooked! He would eat it, even if he doesn’t like it!” I didn’t respond, because she was upset. However, it bothered me: would a woman from her country complain when her husband takes her out to dinner at a restaurant? She did repeatedly.

I found her to be sophisticated when it comes to food, while she said that she likes simple, fresh food. Later in our relationship, she would regularly offer me two meal options that she preselected. One time she told me that I am difficult when it comes to food, because I always choose the option that is more difficult to prepare. This reminds me of how children are tricked into eating vegetables by offering them the illusion of choice between three or five pieces of broccoli. Only in this case, I got shamed for always wanting five pieces of broccoli.

When I suggested to save effort and get takeaway food, my Ex explained that she cooks on the weekends for relaxation. One weekend, I had gotten hangry¹ and asked her: “I’m hungry. When do you make food?” She later joked that I appeared to her like a movie monster in that situation. I replied that she didn’t have to make something for me, I would have prepared something for myself if she was busy. She countered that I could have offered to take over the cooking for her. Yes, I could have done that. But I was tired of doing it wrong.

Her rationale was inconsistent and changed with which needs she had in a moment. One time she insists on cooking for relaxation, another time her partner should take care of it, but then she would complain that she doesn’t like what the partner has picked up or prepared. She criticized any behavior that met her transient needs of a moment less than perfectly. There was no room for compromises. There was no chance to do it right.