At some point in your life and I hope it is soon, you should eat an entire fruit platter by yourself. Not just a cup of fruit or a bowl of fruit: an assemblage and quantity of cut fruit meant to feed an entire office gathering that takes place before noon. This doesn't have to happen all in one sitting or even one day. In the same way that an anaconda takes its precious time to fully subsume a large mammal, you can set a leisurely pace as you ingest this tremendous quantity of fruit. The important thing this that you do not share.
I know! That is against all the laws of civilization and kindergarten, but it's also the point, forcing you to make a purely selfish decision that is actually in the best interest of your own mind and body. This is not me exhorting you to house a whole cheese plate or shotgun a sixer of Straw-Ber-Itas; this is me cruelly tricking you into a light bout of self care. Gotcha.
Self care, as I am learning by way of fruit platters and therapy, is not even a little bit contingent upon owning yoga pants, ingesting anything with a descriptor that ends in "genic," or nestling anything Gwyneth-endorsed within my hoo-ha. There's not even an app for mindful fruit platter eating. I just sort of buy a fruit platter and go to town on it until I don't want any more fruit. I'm usually wearing a caftan when this occurs, but that's just because I started wearing caftans after a recent surgery and discovered that it's extraordinarily comfortable and freeing to wear a caftan. You should wear caftans, too, but of course you do not have to. I mean who am I, the caftan police?
Of course I am not, because that's legally precluded by my official position as the Minister of Convincing People to Hog Fruit Platters and Not Share Them. It doesn't have to be a fancy or expensive fruit platter, by the way, just one where the fruit is pre-sliced and clearly in a portion size that is meant to serve more than one person. I want you to know the abandon and bliss of not worrying if you are bogarting all the berries and mango, leaving your fellow meeting attendees with the bulk of the honeydew chunks and little else. There is so much politesse and restraint involved in communal platter foods. Imagine how much mental energy you will free up if you allow yourself this delicious transgression.
Plus, there's all this fruit! Yes, it would be more economically sound to buy a crap-ton of fruit, butcher it at home and toss it in a bowl, but we both know that will never happen. The fruits will sit shoulder to shoulder, uncut, unpeeled, and moldering under the weight of your good intentions until they rot. Allow yourself this small indulgence (seriously, mine have cost $14 at the absolute max and taken at least three hearty sessions to jam down) because you are worth it in the ways that matter. It feels GREAT being so full of fruit that you almost cannot move, and knowing that there is more in the fridge for later. Perhaps there is someone in this wicked world who would fix their flinty glare upon you and chastise you for being a greedy greedy fruit hog, but nuts to them.You would feel awful if you ate nuts in this quantity, and I care about you, so don't.
Try it once, and if you don't enjoy it, I dunno, maybe bring the remainder to your office, school, church, or gym and let your fortunate colleagues feast on the discards of your good intentions. Random nice things aren't often just given to us on on silver plastic platters, so we must take matters into our own hands. Our sticky, berry-stained hands. (You should totally eat this fruit with your hands.)