Sixteen years. For 16 years, my life was deprived of a simple pleasure. It is something that most people took for granted… a luxury that I was never able to obtain for most of my life. One day, I was able to jump this hurdle and I do not regret my decision. This is the story of when I had my first burger.

First of all, let me just say that it wasn't my decision to keep beef out of my diet; it was completely my mother's fault. My mother became sick every time she ate beef and she didn't want me having it either since she was afraid that beef would betray me the same way it betrayed her. Instead of red meat, we ate chicken and turkey.

The beef restrictions my mother shackled onto my diet never really affected me since beef was never introduced to our household. It wasn't until my dad started ordering steak when we ate out that the chains became a problem. I'll never forget the first time I laid eyes on my father's perfect piece of steak from Longhorns: the filet was perfectly circular and darkened medium-well with a little char on the edges. The cow was topped with a hunk of butter melting from the heat of the meat, pooling on the top, while small rivers escaped off the edges.

The escaped butter met up with the beef's brown natural oils that set static at the base of the meat. The aroma was something I'd never smelled before, but I knew that I wanted more of it. Sadly, when I asked my dad for a bite, my mom intervened and said the same thing she always said: "No baby it will hurt your stomach." Having to sit there while my dad devoured his filet was the same heart-ache as two star-crossed lovers not being able to publicly express their love for each other. While he sat there eating his tender and juicy filet, I was stuck eating dry, unseasoned chicken tenders and fries from the kid's menu.

As I got older, it became easier to get around my mother's restrictive diet. As I entered high school, my mom began to pick up more shifts as a flight attendant, so she wasn't home as often as she used to. My dad took this as an opportunity to start introducing me to my long-lost love. If he had a steak, he would snag a few small pieces for me, and the thrill of having something new, and going against my mother's rules, had me wanting more. I wanted to take the next step and have my own burger. After a while, my dad told me that when I was old enough to make my own dietary decisions, and I still wanted to try beef, he would treat me to a daddy-daughter date to his favorite burger place. Finally, I was ready to be introduced to burgers.

This ground-breaking event happened on a Saturday after my ballet class. It was 2 p.m. and it had been a long five-hour dance day with nothing more than a Nutri-grain bar to keep my stomach from eating itself. After ballet ended, I immediately started to feel the effects of going through strenuous activity with little food. As soon as I got in the passenger seat of my dad's white '06 Honda Ridgeline, he knew that I was ready to devour any type of food he could give me. I remember him turning to me and saying, "I think you're ready for your first burger. Do you want to go to 5 Guys for lunch?"

I didn't think I heard him well at first and asked him to repeat it. When my dad clarified that I had heard correctly, my heart rate started to increase. I realized that the moment I've been waiting for was here, and it was less than five minutes away.

The drive was short; the closest 5 Guys location was thankfully right down the street from my ballet studio. As my dad parked and we got out of our car, the smell of freshly cut potatoes and grease grew with each step we took to reach the entrance. As I opened the door, the smell exploded into my face, and I entered a room with white walls decorated with red trim. As I walked deeper into the store, I studied the posters on the walls, advertising their fresh patties and daily-made Irish potatoes, deep fried in peanut oil. As I stepped closer to the podium, I quickly glanced at the menu and immediately my mouth watered. Everything sounded delicious, but I knew exactly what I would get. When the cashier asked me what I would like, I confidently recited my order of the Bacon Burger with mayo, mustard, fresh onions and jalapeños, grilled mushrooms, and lettuce, with a small regular fry.

The wait for our order felt like it was taking forever, but I was excited to try my burger. It felt the same as would the thrill of climbing the first hill of a large roller coaster. As we got our food, I surprisingly didn't immediately dig in. I wanted to study my sandwich and make sure everything was correct before I lost my burger virginity. I tore open the aluminum foil that restricted my burger from its confines, revealing a plump bun decorated with sesame seeds. The mayonnaise and yellow mustard peeked over the edge of the buns but was safely secured from escaping with the long strip of iceberg lettuce. The onions were diced and placed into the inside of the burger. The two beef patties looked appetizing; it was cooked well done with a deep brown color. The bacon was thankfully not flimsy; it was thick and crispy, with a deep red color, with its sides looking like small hills. The mushrooms were grilled down and coated with oil, giving them a deep brown color.

The burger met my standards, and I was ready for my first bite.

The sesame seed buns gave a slight hesitation as I bit into the sandwich, but the first bite of my overflowing burger was everything I thought it would be. I pulled away to chew and I had an equal portion of all of my added ingredients. The sandwich was tangy from the sweet mustard yet slightly spicy from the fresh jalapeños and had a smoky flavor from the meat. The fries were a thick cut and evenly salted and didn't need ketchup.

Ever since that day, I have never been able to find another burger place that was better than 5 Guys. No place I had been had both a well-cooked patty as well as crispy bacon; it was either one, the other, or neither.

Even though I was spoiled with my first burger being from 5 Guys, nothing will ever beat a 5 Guys burger.