Why Do I Feel Like a Lemon?

Lemons, like my parents, are imports from foreign lands that weren’t grown here

I’m holding a slightly stale lemon and trying to explain to a group of strangers what the English idiom ‘to feel like a lemon’ means. I grew up in England and despite having foreign parents myself, it didn’t cross my mind that this expression wouldn’t be understood. I tried to explain that it meant feeling awkward and out of place.

‘But why a lemon?’ A French woman cried. ‘How is a person a lemon?’ ‘What is awkward about lemons?’

I could hear how awfully English my accent sounded as I kept trying to explain. The other English person chimed in to say, ‘It’s what we say to describe feeling useless or sticking out.’

‘I don’t get it. It doesn’t make sense,’ the French woman exclaimed, waving her arms.

‘It’s just what we say.’

We quietly decided to move on.

I’d been invited to this gathering of charming, international creatives by my friend

Mariana Serapicos

(

The Rest is Memory

on Substack). She gave us a theme and invited us to bring something that it made us think of. The theme was a line from a letter the poet Emily Dickinson wrote in 1883:

‘The stars are not hereditary.’

I opened my fridge, which was empty aside from lemons as I was flying that weekend, and took one out.

The lemon holds many meanings for me. When my last relationship ended, I assessed what I wanted from my next partner and a zest for life —being enthusiastic, passionate, and grateful for each day—came up top. I renamed this newsletter Tough Love and added the lemon emoji.

🍋

‘Making lemonade out of lemons’, which was first attributed to the American writer Elbert Hubbard in 1915, captures the essence and attitude to life that I want to embody. In contrast, I notice those who ‘make lemons out of lemonade’ (love this expression play!) They’re negative types that take something good and sour it. I stay away from them.

I’m also half from Cyprus where lemons exist in abundance. I always have lemons in my fridge. After my breakup, I declared I wanted a lemon tattoo.

‘You must have a lot of money to spend if you want to tattoo yourself with lemons,’ my Irish mother shrieked in response to this.

‘I’ll get a potato tattoo too, so as not to leave you out,’ I told her.

The lemon is to Cyprus what the potato is to Ireland. And even though being Irish is cool now, I feel far more connected to the Mediterranean side of my heritage. I’ve been on far more holidays to Cyprus than Ireland and I’m drawn to its sunshine and food. Although Cypriot potatoes cooked in lemon is very much a thing.

However, the lemon also has a negative association for me. I’m at a phase in my life where I’m keen to meet as many new people as possible. When it goes well, this fresh energy lifts me up, but meeting new people is also risky business. There are people I don’t gel with and, of course, I blame them when I bitch about it later, but the experience still gives my self-esteem a little shake.

This desire for newness also means that I can be at an event where I know no one and feel like a lemon. I’ll hover on the edges of group conversations, feeling exposed and hoping someone will be kind enough to talk to me. If they do, I become aware of when they want to go back to talking to their friends. None of this feels good, but I have to take these few lows for the highs that meeting new people you connect with brings.

I can also feel like a lemon at family events. I usually arrive alone, the odd number, while everyone else shows up with their partner and children. It can feel childish to be the only single person there. The times I have brought a boyfriend have been such rare and special occasions that everyone puts on their best behaviour and pretends to be normal for the evening.

Lemons, like my parents, weren't grown here and are imports from foreign lands. England is too cold for lemons, which is why the expression makes sense. When lemons first arrived in England in the 15th and 16th centuries, they were associated with rarity, wealth, and exoticism. But over time were deemed in the English lexicon as something useless, superfluous or unwanted.

There are several theories about the origin of the phrase ‘to feel like a lemon’. One suggests it’s derived from Cockney rhyming slang that was possibly inspired by the bright yellow lemon looking out of place in the markets. Another theory is that it originated in America, where defective cars were called ‘lemons’ to describe their uselessness. In slot machines, lemons symbolised a losing spin.

I don’t remember when I first learnt what the lemon symbolises in this country, but there have been many times in my life when I’ve known exactly what ‘to feel like a lemon’ meant.

🍋

I’d brought a lemon to the gathering because I thought how feeling out of place can be freeing. If you don’t fit in, then you’re released from the pressure and expectation of your tribe and you’re free to carve out your own path. ‘I haven’t chosen to be at odds with everyone else around me, but perhaps by feeling like an outsider, I’ve been granted a gift.’ I shared with the group.

I didn’t feel like a piece of fruit at this salon. I wrapped up by saying that I love lemons and they’re a symbol of my heritage and identity. Another woman at the event said it was interesting because lemons are out of place here, but in abundance in the Mediterranean, so the expression wouldn’t make sense there. I agree this was very true. Perhaps an unsettled feeling of belonging is why I hold the lemon so close.

That same weekend, I flew to Cyprus where lemons are everywhere. They’re hanging from the trees and served in slices with every meal. During my time there, I didn’t feel awkward or like a lemon at all. I was where I was supposed to be.

The experience of feeling like a lemon, or an outsider looking, is so universal, that it must come from a desire for connection. We don’t feel like a lemon when we’re with old friends that feel like home or when we’re surrounded by strangers in a cafe or on the Tube. We feel it when we want to feel part of the gang that we’re not in. It’s when our brightness, our uniqueness, and the zest we have to offer aren’t being appreciated. We feel like a lemon when we want to belong.

Perhaps if we change seats, leave the party or travel into the sunshine, we put ourselves in the environment we need to grow.

On my way home, at Larnaca airport, I noticed that even the wallpaper at Burger King was covered in lemons and I smiled. Only in Cyprus. 🍋

With love,

Tiff

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Lemony Bits & Recs

Short on time? But have lemons and yoghurt in the fridge…

This is my absolute go-to:

foodandpsych

A post shared by @foodandpsych

Skin fix: Face oil has a mixed reputation but I overdid it on the ‘actives’ which is something I do every few months and I should really know better by now… so I had to go back to basics. This Wild Source Miracle Oil has been a lifesaver and it’s full of natural soothing goodness as I patiently wait to start messing with my skin again (it’s so hard not to).

Still wearing (and gifting): Le Bon socks. Buy yourself nice socks because you will be dead one day. I also recently bought Muji socks which are also good and much cheaper.

Recommendations for the Seasonal Shift

Impulse buy: Ok so WHAT trainers does a mid-late thirties girlie who resides in Hackney buy? They need to be comfortable enough to walk longish distances in (so Converse/Gazelles and anything with a flat sole won’t do here). I want to look modern but not too Gen Z, practical but not too dorky either. And I don’t want to spend £200, which is the price of too many trainers these days. Anyway, I landed on these Salomons. I’ve been told this is trendy of me. Maybe they’ll become ubiquitous. Maybe I don’t care.

Read:

Alice Wilkinson

’s How To Stay Sane in a House Share. I live alone now but I spent a good 12 or so years of my life in houseshares. Reading this, I felt a mix of nostalgia for those times and was relieved that I was spared some true horror stories. The book also celebrates the little families

Currently obsessed with: The sauna. I’m going constantly and it always just makes me feel incredible. A really good hack for the season’s transition and any weird mood feelings that may be coming along with it.

Thank you for reading!

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