Fresh off a semi-intentionally extended 7 years of undergraduate agony, I thought I was invincible when it came to taking on adulthood. I had job interviews lined up, a new studio apartment in the heart of Seattle, and nothing but open road ahead of me.
Then came the mango. And the worst protein smoothie that’s ever been smoothie’d.
Long story short, I assumed I knew everything about mangoes. However, like many assumptions I made about life in my mid twenties, I actually didn’t know shit. I peeled the mango, thought I was done with it and threw the rest of the lot into the blender along with the other usually suspected smoothie additives.
Blend. Realize you’ve made a huge mistake. Blend some more. Break your blender. Pour. Drink. Fail.
This culinary fiasco didn’t necessarily teach my how to cut a mango, but it did a lot towards making me realize that I needed way more help than I thought I did out there on my own. It took a while, but over the years I learned to lean on what was around me – most notably friends and family – to support me in my life. Make no mistake, asking for help is fucking hard. To this day if I think I can do something effectively by myself, I do it. The key is understanding your limitations and getting the support where you need it most. This is the elusive sweet spot that I’m constantly trying to square up.
I eventually did learn how to cut a mango (with help, obviously). If you came here hoping for a picture by picture how-to article diagramming the whole slimy process, I’m sorry for making you suffer through my pious life lesson. Quick version: cut vertically around the core (4 pieces), score diamond shapes into the soft fruit of each piece, push on the skin with your thumbs, and viola! Peeled, cut, delicious mango for your smoothing pleasures.
Don’t say I never did anything for you.