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Wednesday, September 12, 2012

On top of my soap box

I don't have a ton of complaints anymore about the mandatory gluten free lifestyle that I follow.  5 years of it has beat me into submission and even taught me to appreciate the hand I have been dealt.  Some days though, I feel like I did at the beginning.  This isn't fair.

J and I have been invited to one of my co-worker's houses this weekend for a get together.  My co-worker said she was going to make hamburgers and told me I should just bring my own bun.  I said oh that's ok, I'm just not going to eat. [Note: I don't eat at other people's houses unless I am the one preparing the food because I am a VERY sensitive celiac and have gotten sick from ridiculously small amounts of gluten cross contamination.]  My co-workers response to my statement was somewhat unexpected, though I've heard it before, "you're weird!"  No, dear people of the world.  I am not weird.  I am protecting myself and my health, if I could eat safely at your house I promise you I would.  Your food always looks good.  Upon explaining this, her statement was retracted and I was instead deemed "high maintenance."  Au contraire.  I am no maintenance.  You don't even have to feed me.  How is that high maintenance?  I simply go to these sorts of functions to be in your presence.

I realize that we are a species that loves feeding one another, and when people come over to my house I live and die to feed them.  I feel awful that I cannot eat the beautiful food that has been prepared.  I know it is hard.  Please don't slap a hurtful label on me for a choice that I never wanted to have to make.  My intention was never to make anyone uncomfortable.

Invite me out to dinner.  If I don't eat, don't say anything.  Know that I will eat eventually, but at that moment I care more about the company I'm with than the food.

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