I know it’s a common saying, but clichés often hold a grain of truth.
So, here it goes: it’s not you; it’s me.
I recognize your efforts. Each month, there’s a fresh article in various women’s magazines celebrating your merits. Impressive, indeed. You’ve earned the title of “superfood,” a designation reserved for only a select few foods believed to possess extraordinary health benefits. (Though, amusingly, “superfood” isn’t an actual scientific term—just a clever marketing invention. But I digress…)
Yogurt, it’s hard for me to express this. I’m aware of the lengths you’ve gone to win me over. With your myriad of brands, forms, and flavors—Fage, Chobani, Dannon Oikos, Stonyfield, Yoplait Greek. Classic, 2%, 0%. With mix-ins or without, even the Icelandic Siggi’s—I’ve tried them all.
Yet, despite your creative attempts, you simply can’t meet my needs. No matter the variety, I find myself unable to enjoy your thick, creamy texture. Instead, I can’t shake the feeling that you smell and taste like something far from delightful.
To be clear, this is about me, not you. Please don’t take it personally. The general populace adores you, and I doubt you’ll even notice my absence.
Rest assured, I’ll be just fine. It appears that Dannon Fruit on the Bottom aligns more with my palate; I’ve always enjoyed mixing those berries myself.
Farewell,
Jessica
This article was originally published on May 28, 2015.
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In summary, while yogurt may be beloved by many, it’s simply not for me. I cherish my personal preferences and am content to move on to options that suit my taste.