I hate peanut butter. The vile, paste-like substance has a way of gluing your mouth shut until you almost choke on it. I cannot even begin to fathom how people find it appealing. As I scooped a heaping spoonful of the salty goop onto my plate, I couldn’t believe what I was planning to do. Was I actually going to eat peanut butter?

The choices young teens make are often overanalyzed and criticized by their peers. From what they wear to the way they walk, nothing is safe. Teenagers struggle with wanting to feel normal and accepted. Unfortunately, while on this journey to normalcy, many forget who they actually are. Their obsession with acceptance leads them to suppress their true preferences and desires and conform to a trending norm, but nothing is worth giving up your identity for.

It was the “cool” lunch choice. In order to sit with the popular girls, I could eat whatever I wanted, as long as a blob of peanut butter and an under-ripe banana were included in the meal. For most of freshman year, I had been exiled from this elite cult. By ignoring the rule, I had allowed myself to be shunned. By sophomore year, I wanted a change. The desire to be accepted fueled my conformity in food choices. I did it to be popular, and I’m not proud of it.

This was it, the moment. Am I actually going to go through with this? Is sitting with these girls really worth it? These thoughts raced through my head as I peeled the banana. I picked up a knife and sliced it, feeling more nauseous with each cut. Placing a small amount of the hardened gunk that our cafeteria passed off as peanut butter onto a banana slice, I struggled to make my decision.

Do I eat this?

I ate it. Instantly regretting my decision, I nearly gagged as I tried to force down the crusty paste. Somehow I managed and found a way to be accepted in the cut-throat world that is high school.

Day after day, I ate the peanut butter/banana lunch. I grew more unaware of the taste each day, until eating it became second nature. I convinced myself that I enjoyed peanut butter. I no longer dreaded the thought of lunch. By numbing myself to the pain of peanut butter, I had become “happy.” However, I did not realize what I had given up: my freedom to choose the foods that I liked. By forcing myself to eat peanut butter, I relinquished my individuality.

Like myself at 15, teenagers often feel lost and confused, and just want to fit in. Often, teens sacrifice a large part of themselves for the sake of being accepted, whether it be moral beliefs, clothing preferences, or food choices. Sacrificing individuality for conformity leaves us with a society of clones.

It took time for me to realize how illogical my conformity was: Why should I have cared about the opinion of a group of whiny girls? Peanut butter is utterly repulsive. I should not have forced myself to eat it, but rather I should have chosen the foods I enjoyed. For example, why not eat jelly with my banana? Although some find that combination odd, I enjoy it; therefore, I should have openly expressed my love for it. I feared being ridiculed or ostracized for my choices, so I took the easy way out: I chose peanut butter instead of jelly.

Looking back on my early teen years, I am ashamed of the choices I made. I changed my values, likes, and appearance to such an extent that I had a hard time determining what was me and what was a product of peer influences. I am embarrassed to say that I allowed the opinions of insignificant people to dictate years of my life. Although only a few years have passed since I sat at that lunch table, I know that I am no longer that awkward, insecure girl. I am still in the process of discovering myself, and I do not expect to find all the answers any time soon. However, one thing I know for certain is that I will never feel compelled to eat peanut butter again.

From now on, I am sticking with jelly.