You can almost hear the eye-rolling when another diner surveys the content of my plate.
"Paleo?" he asks.
"No," I respond. I might as well follow through.
"Gluten-free." The diner now surveys me to see if he can discern what's wrong with me.
Perhaps this will lead to a rather personal Q and A, through which this individual will deem that I, indeed, may continue to eat as I wish.
Perhaps this will lead to a dismissal of gluten-free as a fad.
Perhaps I'll be treated to an anecdote of another experimental person on the gluten-free path.
It's tempting just to say I'm allergic to wheat as determined by an elaborate skin-prick test by a leading allergist. It's mostly true. But I don't go there. I'm one of those annoying folks who have some actual food allergies and other food sensitivities. I've found that it's best just to eat what I know is safe for me and to avoid what isn't.
It's that simple.
Or it should be simple. I've become confident enough after 17 years of a severe cinnamon allergy to alert my host and co-diners that I'm as allergic to cinnamon as others are to nuts. Yes, that applies to cinnamon-scented candles and air fresheners. Yes, that applies to hot apple cider. Yes, that applies to candy and gum. Yes, I know other people love cinnamon, Yes, I'll be glad to stay home instead of coming to your party.
But gluten? It's even more complicated. People are insulted when I don't want to try their birthday cake. They seem inconvenienced when I can't just grab a slice of pizza. They seem to think that I should just make an exception for their cupcake or brownie, not understanding that eating one piece of cake can wreak havoc on my body for 5 or more days. Yes, I love cake. Yes, I love sweets. But I've learned my limitations.
So why are people so critical and inquisitive of those pursuing a gluten-free plan and so much more supportive of those trying paleo? Why does one choice garner irritation while the other accolade?
My choices of what goes on my plate and into my body are based on years of trial and error, reading hundreds of articles, participating in hundreds of conversations, and listening to myself. Sometimes I've felt as if I were my own science experiment. Having proven my hypothesis (no more gluten for you, Missy!), I'm good with my mostly gluten-free lifestyle.
It's time for others to be good with it, too.
"Paleo?" he asks.
"No," I respond. I might as well follow through.
"Gluten-free." The diner now surveys me to see if he can discern what's wrong with me.
Perhaps this will lead to a rather personal Q and A, through which this individual will deem that I, indeed, may continue to eat as I wish.
Perhaps this will lead to a dismissal of gluten-free as a fad.
Perhaps I'll be treated to an anecdote of another experimental person on the gluten-free path.
It's tempting just to say I'm allergic to wheat as determined by an elaborate skin-prick test by a leading allergist. It's mostly true. But I don't go there. I'm one of those annoying folks who have some actual food allergies and other food sensitivities. I've found that it's best just to eat what I know is safe for me and to avoid what isn't.
It's that simple.
Or it should be simple. I've become confident enough after 17 years of a severe cinnamon allergy to alert my host and co-diners that I'm as allergic to cinnamon as others are to nuts. Yes, that applies to cinnamon-scented candles and air fresheners. Yes, that applies to hot apple cider. Yes, that applies to candy and gum. Yes, I know other people love cinnamon, Yes, I'll be glad to stay home instead of coming to your party.
But gluten? It's even more complicated. People are insulted when I don't want to try their birthday cake. They seem inconvenienced when I can't just grab a slice of pizza. They seem to think that I should just make an exception for their cupcake or brownie, not understanding that eating one piece of cake can wreak havoc on my body for 5 or more days. Yes, I love cake. Yes, I love sweets. But I've learned my limitations.
So why are people so critical and inquisitive of those pursuing a gluten-free plan and so much more supportive of those trying paleo? Why does one choice garner irritation while the other accolade?
My choices of what goes on my plate and into my body are based on years of trial and error, reading hundreds of articles, participating in hundreds of conversations, and listening to myself. Sometimes I've felt as if I were my own science experiment. Having proven my hypothesis (no more gluten for you, Missy!), I'm good with my mostly gluten-free lifestyle.
It's time for others to be good with it, too.
Comments