At a fancy restaurant on another recent trip, my bonus father, who doesn't like mushrooms, asked for regular butter instead of the truffle-infused butter that was offered to us. The waiter actually responded to the request with, "This butter is really delicious." Why would the waiter think his palate was the one that got to make the call? Haven't they heard the expression "de gustibus non disputandum est" or "there's no disputing tastes"? As far back as people were speaking Latin, the smarties have known that people like what they like, which is a lucky thing, because if we all liked the exact same things, people, events, etc. they'd be too in-demand to get!
I took the photo above on my recent trip the Balkans. Our group went to a winery, where we had an amazing dinner that ended with a double-dessert of panna cotta and chocolate cake. Because I don't like chocolate, the restaurant made this double serving of panna cotta for me, though they crumbled chocolate around the edges of the plate. Another traveler in our group is allergic to chocolate, so this solution didn't work for her. For me, it wasn't deadly, but I did wonder why, if someone has asked for no chocolate, would the chef decorate the plate with chocolate. Does the chef believe himself/herself/themselves to know my tastebuds better than I do? I doubt they could.
I love sweets, but I don't like chocolate. I tell you this not because my birthday is five days after this post goes live and I don't want the millions of you trying to figure out what to get me to buy chocolate when I'd much rather have gummy bears or licorice or toffee or well, you get the idea. (As an aside, your reading this post--and, if you want, getting a friend or ten to subscribe to receive the weekly emails--is gift enough for me!) I'm saying it because whenever I let people know that I don't like chocolate, I get two reactions.
A few people, including the one who's line inspired this piece (Hi, KH!) are with me. There are quite a few of us no-chocolate-eaters out there, but we're very much in the minority. The much more common response is horror, often accompanied by an aghast, "How can you not like chocolate?!" and "I don't think something's a dessert unless it has chocolate in it!" and the more specific, "When there's a choice about what to have, I'll take the chocolate cake with chocolate frosting and chocolate ice cream on top covered by chocolate sprinkles that are coated in chocolate!" Okay, enough already. I get it, you looooove chocolate. Until recently, I'd end the conversation there.
But in the spring, I was having this tired conversation with one of my 2025s who would happily eat all chocolate all the time and with my non-chocolate-eating friend who also works as a dean, and in reply to a version of that last comment above, she said, "I love that for you!"
Cue the lightbulb over Carita's head. I don't have to feel the same way as someone else or have the same tastebuds as that other person to be able to turn a conversation into a connection. I can be truly happy for another person's passions even when I don't share them.
Saying, "Don't yuck my yum" is so ingrained in my head as a lover of black licorice and deviled eggs and anchovies and lots of other foods that people don't like that I haven't thought much about a way I can embrace others' pleasure as I'd hope they'd embrace mine. "I love that for you" is a huge step better than "That's not for me." Instead of separating us, "I love that for you" brings us together.
The woman who introduced me to this line loooves Beyoncé in a way that give "fan" its original meaning. She organized the office's Wild-Wild-West-themed decorations when Queen B's country album dropped. She knows everything there is to know about every facet of Beyoncé's music and life. While I generally don't listen to music (I know, it's a weirder fact about me than not liking chocolate) and certainly don't follow music trends or know anything about anything musical, I love that for her. I love that she has something that makes her as happy as reading romance novels makes me.
I've come to know that the more I appreciate others' appreciation of whatever it is they want to enjoy, the more I actually appreciate them. "I love that for you" allows you to love what you love and me to love you for it. And since my name means "love," that seems like a pretty great rule to follow.
What are some of the things you like that others don't? Or things you don't like that pretty much everyone else loves? Have you ever had a version of "I love that for you"? Please share your responses in the comments.
Yes, DEI can also include black licorice and deviled eggs and anchovies.
I’m reminded of Improv dictum, “Yes And” rather than “But.”
Totally agree. Here’s the post I wrote about “Yes, And.”
I’m not a big chocolate fan either. When I express my lack of enthusiasm, I get the feeling that it is causing dissonance with the chocolate lover. They want to share their enthusiasm, and I can’t reciprocate. They are disappointed.
I hear you, and I think it’s funny, because they should be thrilled that I won’t elbow them out of the way if some good chocolate appears before us.
I live with someone that will literally eat anything so this does not come up a lot.
I use it for non-food topics, too. You want to spend your day watching golf on TV? I love that for you! You want to visit the Museum of Butchery? I love that for you! It works in all kinds of situations.