I just want to talk about why gluten is such an emotional subject for a lot of people, including myself. I have strong feelings about this, and they must get out!
When I was a kid, I learned about evolution, and thought that the evolution of humans made no sense, because we were in pain all the time, and couldn't eat food without feeling sick. It was I who was in pain, but I had been told that I was fine. I grew up believing that, since I was fine, being in pain was the natural state for everyone.
I lived, played, and went to school in pain. I grew up and got a job in pain. I was always experiencing intense abdominal pain, but I thought it was normal, so I just sucked it up and carried on. I often felt discouraged, because everyone else was so good at keeping on without complaint, and I had a very hard time keeping up. In retrospect, I kept up to a degree that both impresses and saddens me today.
It was my husband (then, just a friend) who clued me in, twenty-something years later. And it was a cookie that turned my life around.
I knew that barley made me particularly ill. I didn't eat barley soup, or drink beer. I admired people who ate and drank without resting, until he informed me that abdominal pain was not normal. Nor were many symptoms I have refrained from mentioning. He also encouraged me to start looking at ingredient lists.
And finally, he is the one who looked at the cookie I was eating one day, and said, "You eat these cookies? They have barley in them. Do you just think it's normal to be sick all the time?" Thus began my journey.
Well, it turned out that there are many grains I can't have, because I'm gluten intolerant. This was over fifteen years ago, so nobody really knew what that meant. It was trial and error for me, figuring out that most of the food making me sick contained wheat or barley. Adding rye and spelt to the list was a more challenging part of the puzzle. I had still never heard of gluten, let alone gluten intolerance or celiac disease.
About a year or two into my new pain-free living experience, the gluten free fad started. I was ecstatic, because there were so many foods I missed! At first, the breads and other products were horrible, and my excitement was quickly quelled. But over time, I found all sorts of wonderful items to add to my diet.
Fads can be a little irritating for people. The more popular it became, the more a lot of people pushed back. They didn't want to hear about it. Gluten intolerance is fake, they said. This fad is ridiculous. It will be over soon.
Gluten intolerance became a punchline in memes and mean-spirited jokes. A couple "friends" of mine would wave food that I can't digest in my face, and say, "Why don't you have a bite?" or pester me online about my "fake" intolerance. I never heard the end of it. Even some family members said I was making it all up.
To make matters worse, I never could get tested for celiac disease. The test requires that a person eat gluten for two weeks, and that would be too painful. The closest thing I got was a diagnosis of Hashimoto's disease, and some confusing information from multiple doctors: Either Hashimoto's makes you gluten intolerant, or most people with Hashimoto's also have celiac disease, because autoimmune disorders tend to come in pairs or groups. I'm not sure which of these is the truth. According to MyHeritage, I have an elevated risk of having celiac disease, but that is also not proof.
To this day, I see hateful comments that gluten intolerance isn't a real thing. I hear that someone somewhere did a study and that my pain was all in my head. I hear that I'm obsessed and nobody wants to hear about it (I have to disclose my food sensitivities anywhere I might eat, for my own safety.) And now, there is hate from the celiac community as well, in the form of gatekeeping. If you haven't been tested, you are often deemed a liar, just egging for attention.
I'm here to say that not eating good food is a terrible way to get attention. If I want attention, I will dress flamboyantly, be loud, and tell outrageous stories. I would like to eat in peace, and not feel like it's necessary to be secretive about my dietary restrictions because it will make everyone's eyes roll. People with food sensitivities are constantly thinking about where they're going to eat if their out, what is safe, should we bring our own food, are we going to offend someone... (People get very offended if you can't eat their food, or don't trust their judgement.)
It's hard to just shut up about it. It's a constant. We must be ever diligent. Finding new foods is often emotional. Social events that revolve around food can be disappointing. Sometimes situations make us feel excluded, or excited, because of what we can or cannot eat. This is stuff that evokes feelings and thoughts, and, God forbid, conversations.
So, why all the hate? Did I offend you by not eating your corn bread? I'm sure it's very good, I just can't digest it, even thought you're not aware that corn meal usually has ingredients other than corn mixed in. Did I bug you by talking about a subject you're tired of? Well, sorry, but my entire internal monologue is a one sided discussion about how not to get poisoned.
I'm happy to be alive and in less pain than I used to be. I had a difficult childhood, in part because I was reprimanded so often for being sick and in pain. The kind of pain that I would now find debilitating, but back then it was just background noise. I'm incredibly grateful that my quality of life has improved so much. But, I'm tired - so very tired - of people judging, hating, and berating me for taking care of myself. Moreover, I'm tired of anyone else having to deal with that. If someone else's needs are such an annoyance to you, just look away.
In case you're surprised, it really is a thing. My theory is that people will find any little shred of a reason to act hateful.