The Cake Diaries

My love of cake is well documented.  Cake and cake-like substances have been my therapy of choice for over forty years.

I love cake completely and without restraint.

“I love the way it looks… all frosted and dressed to kill.  The way the knife pulls a little frosting down into the cake when you cut it, the softness of cake collapsing beneath the weight of sugar and butter.

Yes… all the significant moments of my life; moments of humiliation, sadness, anger, success and joy have been anesthetized by or celebrated with cake.”

(from what I called “The Cake Diaries” 2010)


For weeks now, the universe has been nudging me to add the Cake Diaries to my blog. I’ve resisted. That’s the way I do it; the way most of us do it. We get a nudge. Somewhere within us, we know it’s the next, most right thing to do. We resist. We make excuses. Mine were:

  1. Exposing this side of me makes me look weak.
  2. Sharing it keeps me “in it”. Not letting me move past this hurdle.

Well. (Sigh) The truth is, Carl Jung had a good point. “What you resist, persists”. When the universe, God, Guidance nudges you, they do it gently at first. They really want to let you think it was your idea. If like me, you resist for too long, they get pushy. They throw cake in your face in ways you cannot see coming. People come out of the woodwork ~ asking what you’re writing. And as you look back on your last five blog posts, you realize you might have phoned some of it in. I’ve been phoning shit in for a looooong time. The whole point of this blog was to stop doing that. So, I say “Uncle” to the Source of the nudge/shove; The Cake Diaries are resurrected.

The Cake Diaries have been in existence in an ever growing three ring binder for over ten years. Sometimes they were on a bookcase shelf. Sometimes in a box in storage, depending on how much I weighed or how much I loathed my love of cake. In essence, The Cake Diaries are the truth of my relationship with food and body and the epic battle that has been raging within me for the last forty years. (It’ll be a large category of posts). But, before we get too far here, I want to give credit to the girl who inspired me to start writing about my love of cake; a sweet, unhindered ten year-old girl named Austyn who’s real life experience inspired this poem:

Baby Shower

In a room full of grown up girls clad in dresses and precariously high heels, all laughing and talking about hair-dos and fingernails, and which coffee house makes the best caramel vanilla latte…

I sit on the floor with my knees drawn up,

listening less and less all the time.

Through the endless opening of baby gifts; little booties and blankets and bottles, I wait.

I let my mind travel elsewhere while silly shower games are played;

with jelly beans and baby food jars.

Excruciating boredom permeates my very being as I sit on the indoor-outdoor carpet, hugging my knees and rocking back and forth ~

wishing to be somewhere else; anywhere else!

When suddenly, through the dense fog of my wandering mind, I hear the one word that can rescue me from this slow and painful death.


Oh, glorious cake! The heavy, sugary weight of frosting on my tongue, swirling together with the soft, buttery-ness of cake into a mind bending sugar meltdown!

In a moment of crazed desperation, I spring from my silent vigil and scream…


The room falls silent. All eyes are upon me as I stand frozen in a moment I cannot take back.

I feel my cheeks turn crimson hot.

Then laughter fills the room as all those grown up girls realize that within each one of them lives a ten-year-old girl who loves…


Stay tuned my Lovelies. We’re about to dive into the most real part of life. And we’re going to relate it all to cake.


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