My love language is food. By default, it’s my subconscious way of expressing how much I appreciate and care for you; and in return, if someone treats me to a muffin or stops by with takeout, it instantly warms my heart. We’re not talking fancy gestures here. Magic, to me, always lies in small acts and details. Food is a way to connect with people, across cultures even, but in my humble world, food is a big contributing factor in making my home a cozy, inviting, and peaceful space for everyone. It’s how I say ‘Welcome! I hope you’ll stay a little while‘ and why ‘framily’ dinners and home-cooked meals are so precious to me. Why a cup of coffee with a friend is never complete without a sweet treat. If you’re into the Enneagram, you might already suspect that I’m a firm Two, with an idealistic, purposeful, and rule-loving One wing. Listen to Sleeping at Last’s beautiful song Two, and you’ll instantly know me. I’m the fierce Helper. I want to contribute to your happiness and my world to reflect a safe space where you can rest and take a deep breath. And the secret ingredient to it all is Miss-Julia snacks.

The term was brought to life by one of my dear friends, one of my soul-sisters (there’s an entire blog post dedicated to them). Our daughters used to play soccer together, and Saturdays were game days with my younger son having his game right after theirs. So, naturally, I always packed a whole buffet of sweet, salty, and fruity snacks to keep them happy and entertained on those long mornings. What ended up happening, as we were sitting together and with the littles being too busy being busy, I was keeping my friend’s ever-so-increasing but endearing hangriness at bay. The first time, she had no idea I had an entire Mary Poppins-bag of food with me, and after we had been casually munching on some goldfish in true mom-fashion and her wishing for something sweet, a chocolatey something magically appeared. Same with those mysterious apple slices. That morning, I became the Mother Theresa of snacks in her incredulous, appreciative eyes. We still laugh about it, it’s such a fun memory.

But see, half of the time, I don’t even realize what is happening or what I’m doing. That I’m low-key feeding people. That something so natural to me is perceived as going out of my way by others. Yes, the workers on our roof were perfectly capable to drive themselves to the next fast-food joint down to road on their lunch break, but it surely made their day to be handed sandwiches or the occasional hot cup of coffee. Just like my children are thankful that I’ll always be packing yummy school lunches for them every morning; how their friends happily know that playdates always involve snacks. Or the day I came across a half-stranded hiker in the middle of nowhere on a remote, solo day hike. He had messed up by not packing actual food and I simply opened my backpack to share what I had brought, and, for the rest of the day, we safely saw each other back to our cars. The list goes on. It takes others’ pointing out how the hiker was lucky enough to have received Miss Julia-snacks (a gesture prompting this entire blog) for me to pause and think ‘Yeah… maybe that WAS a little special.’

Individually, we all have our own, personal habits of looking after the ones we love and the people we encounter. Mine, apparently, is one snack, one meal, one treat at a time. I don’t ask or secretly wait for anything in return. My reimbursement lies in the appreciation of thankful smiles, a genuine recipe request, or the knowledge to have made someone feel seen with a simple kindness and the hope of it being forwarded indiscriminately. Cue the ripple effects of kindness again. It really matters a great deal to me. The fact that my foodiness now has name and a permanent home on this platform makes this nurturer’s heart smile big.