service.

I’m upset.

Recently, I had an uncomfortable and slightly sad realization. Someone made me question whether my acts of service as a way of showing care and affection, much like many of us in the restaurant and hospitality industry do, are worth the effort.

If you’ve been around here a while, you know I try to be as myself and as honest as possible. In my dating life, I try to do the same now. This is a fairly new experiment, as I’ve only been sober from alcohol for the past three years. Much of my life before that was spent pretending to be someone I’m not, something I don’t do anymore, to my detriment, apparently.

Over the past three years, I’ve waded through dopamine farmers, attention seekers, traumatized scaredy cats, as well as some really awesome potential partners. On multiple occasions, however, my love language, one of which is acts of service, has come into question. And once again, if you have ever worked in the service industry, you should understand where I’m coming from when I say that.

A love language, by definition, describes how you naturally express and prefer to receive affection.

Now, acts of service can mean many things. It could be cleaning the house, doing the laundry, or cooking for someone, a big one. Chefs and cooks out there, you understand. Usually, though, it’s a mixture of many different things.

Some people welcome these acts of service. Some people see them as a threat. Sometimes people abuse these acts for their own personal gain, and some of us don’t even realize it until it’s too late. Sometimes your acts of service will go unnoticed, uncared about, unranked, and even unwanted.

Does that mean you stop?

Where does hospitality start, and where does it end?

Sometimes your own family, or your parents, can take advantage of your ability to serve and care for others. Maybe they make you feel bad and manipulate you for not helping enough, not caring enough, or not doing enough. Maybe they say you don’t care at all, or that you’re a bad son for not doing what they expect of you. All while you’re only doing the best you can.

I’d like to be less sensitive about my eagerness to serve and help others. To not be made to feel stupid, pathetic, or small for wanting to be useful and present in a world that values the useless and distracted.

My attempts to care for others are often overshadowed by my ability to mock and ridicule. However, I truly just like to have fun and laugh. It’s that simple. What I find funny is often at my own expense or someone else’s. No one can laugh at themselves better than me.

I blew my uncle, for Christ’s sake. Have at it.

(Subscribe to the show and hear the whole story. It’s not that big of a deal.)

But anyways.

My point is this: Don’t let anyone take advantage of your service. Be careful who you offer your hospitality to outside of the restaurant. It’s hard to turn it off. I get it. There’s nothing wrong with you.

On multiple occasions, my acts of care have been misconstrued as being too much or too sensitive, and to that I say, nay! You’re giving your time to the wrong people. Chef, you’re giving your care to people who don’t deserve it. Sometimes they know it, and sometimes they don’t.

Some people will reject acts of care out of fear or as a traumatic response from an abusive childhood. Don’t waste your time on these types, as they look only to continue the loop they’ve created for themselves. I don’t make the rules.

It can be unsettling, discouraging, and sometimes even life altering, but only if you let it.

There are people out there who understand how to give and receive care. I still work every day just to teach myself to receive even the smallest compliment, but work is work, no matter how small.

Look at how we’ve built this community (even though I hate using that term). None of us are alone, even though I’m pretty sure most of us, for at least most of our lives, have felt like no one will ever understand us.

I still don’t know what the fuck I’m talking about half the time, but that’s different, though.

Right?

Keep walking. 🤜