Last night I decided that I really enjoy drinking white wine. I've never had any interest in white wine before, and I always drank red. I was pretty much anti-white wine.
I should have known that that would happen one day. Here's why: back in the early 90's I was very anti-sideburn. I mocked their very existence and thought that sideburned guys were just stoolfools. Then, I think it was in '92, I grew sideburns and had them until just a couple months ago. I had a 17 year loving, supportive relationship with sideburns--after cruelly despising them!
I wonder what I hate right now that I will come to embrace down the road. Maybe cucumbers-- but I doubt it.
Why do we sometimes become that which we most loathe? Is it because we constantly feed the hated thing with the energy of our attention-- and it grows stronger in our lives? Or, could it be that we feel, on some level, that we must deny our affinity for something because we feel that it is somehow forbidden? Is it just easier to live in denial than to have to face some uncomfortable truth about ourselves? I suppose it could be either. Or both. Whatever... time for some white wine.