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It’s Not Their Disease 


Tonight was the Hubbys birthday dinner a favorite brewery. Someone caught me staring at some fries & asked if it killed me to see foods I used to love. If going out was hard, if I missed the foods, if asking the wait staff about ingredients or for a special menu was a pain in the rear.

Yes I do & yes it is. But…

It’s not a big deal. Because their joy & our family time is not defined by the food I can’t eat. There is something at every restaurant I can eat. And if not…it’s ok! I can still hang out with them, spend intentional time with them, focus on things other than my celiacs. I’m not saying I’m not hyper aware, but simply that it doesn’t define me. And it certainly doesn’t define them. My disease is not theirs nor do I wish it to be. I wouldn’t wish this disease on anyone so why would I wish the burden on them.

I want us to live life, not be trapped in a box because I refuse to walk into their favorite place to eat just because it’s not fair to me. I want my husband to continue to brew beer, eat the bread we all know tastes way better & order what he wants. I want my child to know that mommy always packs snacks because we shouldn’t demand nor expect others to cater to us. I’d rather eat ahead & join the fun then be grumpy because someone didn’t bring me gluten free food. We need to interact with our hearts not our stomachs. I want him to know that the memories together as friends & family are worth ten times more then the minor annoying inconvenience. Because that is all I choose it to be & nothing more.

Life is not about me, it’s about us. It’s about life.

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