I Do Not Like Chocolate

Oswald Wagenseil, ‘22

“No way!” “What is wrong with you?” “That’s impossible.” These are some of the most typical replies every time I state my hot take on life: I don’t like chocolate. I am not afraid to admit it. It seems like every time I state that opinion on this matter of candy taste, it’s me against the world. And to be honest, it’s kind of fun. Seeing people lose their minds and look at me as not a human being is enjoyable. However, it’s repetitive to explain how it came to be, so I thought, why not lay all the facts down in a high school newspaper?

Unfortunately, I can’t remember the first time I ever tasted chocolate. But I knew growing up that it was a flavor I avoided at all costs. I was an extremely picky eater—I can still be pretty selective at times—and whenever there was a hint of chocolate in anything, I did everything I could to avoid being in the presence of that food in a mile radius. All the other kids were astonished at this unexpected dislike; even my sister was shocked. She once put it to the test to see if I was only pretending to dislike it. When I was around eight or nine, the two of us were in a summer day camp in Windsor Terrace. As we were waiting for the bus to drive us back home, my sister questioned if I really didn’t like chocolate. I said no, I didn’t. She handed me a Hershey’s Kiss, “Prove it.” Five seconds later, I spit out the chocolate onto the ground in disgust after barely having enough bravery to try it out in the first place. The split second that Hershey’s Kiss made contact with my tongue, I was disgusted. The hard texture and dark, bitter taste blended to make a disastrous combination. Needless to say, I proved to my sister that this wasn’t an act.

For those reading who are wishing that I grew out of this chocolate despise era of my lifetime, I sadly still don’t like chocolate. Just kidding. Well sort of. Granted, the kid version of me was always sure to avoid chocolate at all costs. However, the only chocolate I tasted during that time was chocolate candy. I didn’t even try other chocolate treats, like chocolate cake, brownies, or nutella. I just assumed they would all taste awful to me. No matter the texture of the food, it was like kryptonite to me. But when I entered high school, I really wanted to try something different. This was during the period of my life when I was growing out of the picky eater phase, not afraid of new tastes from foods I hadn’t tried before. I cannot remember the exact moment it happened, but I tried a brownie for the first time. This time, chocolate tasted better. In fact, it tasted like something else completely different from that Hershey’s Kiss. The dark, bitter taste was still there, but it matched well with the brownie’s crumby, soft texture. Plus, there was that soothing aftertaste. It felt like relaxation in taste form, with a hint of a lot of sugar. Needless to say, I needed to see what else I was missing out on. Next, I tried Oreos and chocolate cake, only to realize that these were not even half bad. Still haven’t tried Nutella yet, though. I’ll try to get around to that eventually.

Now, even though I’m nearly an adult, I still introduce the fact that I don’t like chocolate to new people. I don’t think it’s even correct for me to say so; the only thing I really dislike is chocolate candy or dark chocolate. (Oh, I also did try white chocolate. Not for me, I would say.) But I still love saying that phrase: “I do not like chocolate.” Like I said, people will just look at me crazy. They stare at me with shocked eyes, mouth agape, hands cupped against their face, screaming in horror. So maybe that’s an exaggeration, but they definitely give that look of surprise. Truth is, that’s how I want it to be. My dislike of chocolate is something unique about me that I like sharing. Of course, I’m not the only person who doesn’t like it. I wouldn’t be surprised if there is another person in BHSEC who agrees with me. But personally, I feel that it makes me unique. I’m different from most other people. And knowing that one unique aspect of myself has left me content. It’s helpful to distinguish yourself from everyone else in the world. Although everyone in the world has different ways of thinking and lives their lives in their own amazing ways, it’s hard to convey that externally. So, why not blurt out something that will make everyone’s head turn? It could be something big or small. As long as the majority of people are puzzled, you’ve succeeded. Not only is this distinctive, but other people would be interested. Interest brings conversation, and conversation brings people together. Ironic that differences are the first step to companionship.

Maybe I’m just being naive about it all, or maybe I encouraged whoever’s reading to find their own special quality. I don’t expect the latter, considering this is probably the newspaper you found on the table in the library. But I encourage whoever’s reading to find that hot take about yourself and express it. Text your friend that you enjoy eating black licorice. Confess to your family that their favorite TV show is simply not good. Convince that person in your math class that Pixar has not made a single good movie (I really hope only a few people have this opinion). Be yourself, because your real self can make anyone turn their heads. It’s one of the best parts of life.