Tasting Words
It's a strange thing to grow up relating to the world in a way that you think is normal for everyone only to find out one day that you're different. Not just sort of different; real different. I had that revelation one day when I told my mom that I didn't like the way a word tasted and she looked at me like I had suddenly sprouted a goiter. Until then, I assumed everyone tasted words.
I kept that little fact filed away in my brain for several years. Then one day, while I was doing research for something completely unrelated, I stumbled across this article. My jaw hit the floor. It's real! Other people have it! I'll probably never meet any, but still! Not only did it exist, but it had a name! Lexical-gustatory synesthesia. That kind of gave me permission in my mind to tell people about it. In the right context.
What I didn't see coming was how many follow-up questions I would get and how hard they could be. When something is second nature to you, you really have to think about how it affects you sometimes. I remember when two of my co-workers found out, they insisted I go to lunch with them and tell them all about it. Their enthusiasm was hilarious and endearing, but man it felt awkward to be the center of attention for that long. I felt a strong internal pressure to give them the answers they wanted and not disappoint them.
"Wait. So, if you're hungry, can you just start saying words of foods you like and it's like you're eating? Can you just be like 'Aw yeah, burgers! French fries! Delicious!'" I laughed. If only it worked that way. I wouldn't have to work so hard to stay in shape.
Most of the questions are similar. Do all words taste the same? No. Do the tastes change? No, a word's taste will always stay the same. That's why words I've known longer often have tastes from childhood. The only caveat is that different accents can change the taste of the words. In Spanish class, I always craved Mexican food because everything tasted like it. Does every word have a taste? No, a few have a texture instead. Does it only happen when you say the word? No, it also happens when I hear the word, read the word, or think the word. Are they general tastes or specific? They are highly specific. For instance, my son's name tastes like the caramel inside a piece of Rolo candy.
Overall, I consider this strange neurological phenomenon to be a gift. There are definite advantages. Every time someone says "like", I get to taste the chocolate chip Carnation Breakfast Bar that was discontinued long ago. It was my favorite snack as a kid. It also helps me as a writer to feel words more deeply and tangibly. Not to mention, it helps with my memory because I have a taste associated with a name. When we moved into our house a few years ago and met the neighbors, I remembered the husband's name tasted like ketchup and the wife's name tasted like bananas, so that helped me remember what the names were.
There are definite drawbacks too. First of all, it's a little isolating having a condition that is among the rarest of an already rare condition that most people don't understand. But aside from that, not all words taste good. That means I’m forced to taste nasty tastes or feel grating sensations just by hearing or reading a word I don't like. And if I’m nauseous, that makes it ten times worse. There were times early in my pregnancy where I had to keep meditating on the word “ice” to keep my nausea at bay. I also had to make sure when naming our son that he didn't have a bad tasting name.
Although I've never met another person with lexical-gustatory synesthesia, I have met someone with grapheme-color synesthesia. And I learned that many famous musicians like Pharrell, Beyonce, Billie Eilish, Billy Joel, Stevie Wonder, and Hanz Zimmer are synesthetes. I keep hoping maybe some day my synesthesia will help make me rich too. So far, no such luck.