A year ago, I never would have anticipated calling myself a baker: I hardly ever spent any time in the kitchen if it wasn't making cookies with pre-made dough from the freezer. I certainly never could have expected it to be such a therapeutic experience that would end up helping me connect with my mom in an entirely new way. And, of all things, I owe it to BBC's "The Great British Bake Off."

I started watching the program around a year ago, starting about the summer before my freshman year of college. American TV is filled to the brim with cooking shows on the Food Network like "Chopped" and "Hell's Kitchen"- dark and intense programs that are almost stressful to watch. If the contestants aren't getting yelled at, they're being cursed out by Gordon Ramsey. However, I soon discovered a different show that had recently been put on Netflix: "The Great British Bake Off."

It was like night and day. The judges weren't nasty or scary, the hosts were actually likable, the contestants seemed like ordinary people who just happened to have a talent for baking. Suddenly, I was intrigued by the world of baking. It seemed like something enjoyable! So many of the amateur bakers on the show would make comments about how baking had brought them out of rough patches in their lives, even saying it had saved them. Normally I take comments like these on reality TV with a grain of salt, but these seemed to be genuine. Again, I was intrigued. I finished the show right after my first semester in college, which had been particularly rough for me, and the comments made by the show's contestants rang in my ears a little differently. I decided to give baking a try.

I started with a cookbook I'd been given by one of my teachers in high school who always made snacks for his after-school clubs (I've now moved on to trying recipes featured in "The Great British Bake Off"). It was a simple honey cake, nothing too fancy, and it only took me about twenty minutes to bake. I'd made cookies or helped my mom with cakes before, but I realized this was the first time I'd ever really baked anything on my own from scratch. I brought the cake back to college after winter break, and my friends seemed to really enjoy it. Even the process of baking was surprisingly fun, not a chore like I'd previously thought about it. Trying something new and simultaneously being able to craft something for other people to enjoy gave me a kind of satisfaction that I had not received in a long time.

I'd heard countless people talk about how food can be one of the best ways to bring people together, but I had never really thought about it in that way until I experienced it for myself. Being able to bake for my parents, who obviously put food on the table for me for many years, was such a different way to give back to them that I had not previously thought about before. It was almost difficult for my mom to let me on my own in the kitchen to bake, but once I did, it became a new topic for us to bond over and talk about on the phone while I was back at college.

Every time I've gone home this semester I've baked something new. Obviously, they haven't all been complete successes, but when they are, it's such a relief and joy to see my family or friends enjoy something that I made for them. Even when they don't go the way I had planned, I still learn a lot for my next baking escapade. When I have free time at college, I look up new recipes to try the next time I go home. It's been a complete surprise how much I've enjoyed baking, but it's been one that I've embraced wholeheartedly.