My love for cooking didn’t start with some grand, soul-stirring moment. I’d love to tell you I was called to the kitchen after a mystical encounter with a spatula, but the truth is much simpler (and a bit more devious). My love for cooking, baking, and all things food really started with one mission: licking the batter bowl after my mom was done baking.
But there was a catch—my younger sister. She also had eyes on the prized batter bowl, which meant we had to share, and let me tell you, getting the bowl was the ultimate victory. Sure, the mixing spoons were fine, but the bowl was where the magic was. So, in my sugar-fueled determination, I hatched a plan: become the baking assistant.
I’d stand by, 'helping,' patiently holding the bowl while my mom creamed butter and sugar (this was pre-electric mixer days). If I timed it right, I’d sneak a taste when she wasn’t looking—pure, sweet butter and sugar bliss. And, of course, at the end, I claimed my reward: the prized batter bowl.
But soon enough, my mom wasn’t baking often enough to satisfy my 9-year-old sugar cravings, so I took matters into my own hands. I volunteered to bake, and to my surprise, she let me. It was also around this time that I discovered the wonders of food colouring. Let’s just say my first batch of muffins was... an experience. They were very sweet and very green—so green that even my cat refused to try them. And yes, I was heartbroken!
Over time, this became more than just about making food. Cooking evolved into one of the core ways I showed up for myself with intention—by creating nourishing meals. I always loved experimenting with food, and it became a bit of a hallmark in my life. Friends and family would often say, "Have you tasted her cooking? She’s amazing in the kitchen."
But gradually, the joy of cooking faded. What once felt like a creative outlet became a chore - and with the rise of food delivery apps, it became far too easy to stop cooking and rely on convenience.
That all changed, however, when I moved to a small town where there were fewer than 10 restaurants available on the apps. After cycling through the options multiple times, I realised I was bored with the food and also that it wasn’t nourishing me the way my body needed. My energy was low, and I even began experiencing gut issues.
That’s when I made the decision to pay attention—to be more intentional with the meals I made. It started small. I began by preparing simple, cute lunches during my work breaks. Not only did this serve as a powerful way to de-stress from work, but it also allowed me to reconnect with the act of feeding myself well. I started picking up fresh fruits, snacks, and ingredients that felt nourishing. These small shifts made a big difference. Slowly, I noticed that my body was relishing the care it was finally receiving, and without even realising it, I shifted to making about 90% of my meals at home.
Sure, this gave me the nutrition I needed, which in turn made me feel and look better. But it went deeper than that. By showing up for myself in this seemingly small way each day, I was sending myself a powerful message: I am important. I honour myself. This daily act of nourishment built a sense of trust within me, a quiet reassurance that I was taking care of myself in a meaningful way.
There was also something empowering about knowing exactly what was in my food—the quality of the ingredients, the love I poured into it, and the creativity I expressed in each dish. Over time, cooking became an even more intimate experience. I began to infuse intention into the process, consciously thinking about the energy I wanted to embody as I prepared my meals. For me, food became healing—not just physically but emotionally and spiritually. Now, I often tell people, “My food is healing,” because the act of cooking with love and intention has been a cornerstone of my personal healing journey.
I realise that cooking isn’t for everyone, and although I dream of days where we’ll exchange recipes within this beautiful community, what worked for me may not work for everyone. Cooking was something I already enjoyed and came naturally to me, so it was an accessible way to show up with intention. But it doesn’t have to be cooking for you.
Find something small that you enjoy, something that feels easy to start with, and begin showing up for yourself intentionally through that. Whether it’s journaling, taking a walk, or creating space for a mindful moment, the power of intention lies in those small, consistent actions. You might be surprised at how this seemingly simple act creates a positive ripple effect in other areas of your life.
With love,
Lumin