Dessert is something that I don't have very often. I go out of my way to avoid desserts. My thought is that a meal should be enough, I should not need to eat right after eating.
Strangely this thought is stuck with me from my childhood. Not that my parents didn't make dessert occasionally, and they never discouraged me from it, I had to do that all on my own.
I had a terrible asthma attack when I was a kid (I think I was 7 or 8). Up until then I had never had a breathing problem. After the attack, I became a different person. I changed from the athletic non-stop running kid that I had been to a couch potato. I gained a lot of weight and became a nerd. Imagine, without an asthma attack I may have just been a really smart athlete. Instead I became the amazing blog posting geek that I am.
During my fat years (still working on getting out of them), I had a particular incident that has stuck in my mind. My dad had gone grocery shopping and brought home a generic hostess cupcake type of thing. This particular treat was kind of a rarity. I was already eating 2 or 3 bowls of cereal for breakfast to make sure that I could get as much of my favorite cereal as I wanted before my brother would eat it all. So when everybody else was gone and I was home by myself watching TV, I had a treat. Then another and another. It only took me about an hour to finish the entire box (I can't remember if it was 8 or 10).
I remember later that day my dad came in and opened the snack drawer and saw that I had finished all of them. He didn't yell at me. Yelling would have been expected, instead, he just looked disappointed. I disappointed my dad. That's probably just about the worst feeling that I have ever had.
I still remember it, and when I eat dessert I still think back to that day when I shoveled in a whole box of treats. I told myself that would never happen again. That's why I have a hard time with desserts now. I have to be able really deserve the dessert that I'm going to have. I can't just have one to have one, or I will see that look again.
Now I try to continue to do what's right. I still look for my father's approval, and I think "what would dad think about me doing this". I hope that the decisions I've made have made him proud.