I remember a time not so long ago when cupcakes were simple. You bought a box of cake mix, added oil and eggs, and baked them.
In fact, thanks to my sister, I have a picture of myself from this birthday party pictured above eating my very last cupcake. Ever. I'm trying to stand downwind (so as not to eat my hair) and eat quickly so I can get back to hostessing duties. These two combined make me look almost guilty and furtive as I gobble that cupcake. Ironic, much?
I remember the exact moment the light bulb came on and my life changed forever. It was May 16th, 2011. Thanks to Facebook for helping me remember. My memory is good but not that good.
A few days before I talked to someone on the phone who had just learned she was intolerant and she was telling me about her special diet. I remember thinking what a pain that must be but it didn't click yet. After all, the symptoms she had weren't like mine at all.
That very night (or shortly thereafter, the dates are a little hazy) I had a friend and her family over for dinner and cooked my first ever gluten free meal (baked potatoes, salad, watermelon, and the now famous flourless chocolate cake). I was so proud. Little did I know that I was soon to become very adept at that very skill.
At the dinner we talked a little about gluten and how we both knew many people who had recently discovered sensitivities. It was an interesting conversation but I think I was in denial that any of it was relevant to me.
A couple of days later (the aforementioned May 16th), my friend sent me two articles on celiac disease/gluten intolerance and their impact. I remember printing them out and walking into the bedroom to show my husband.
"Look," I said. He did. Then we both just looked at each other and everything made sense.
There were all my unexplained symptoms, some of which I had been struggling with for almost eight years:
Anemia--check
Weight loss--check
Fatigue--check
Thyroid issues--check
Miscarriage and infertility--check
Circulation problems--check
And we hadn't even gotten to the "upset stomach" part yet.
Instead of being upset and mourning the loss of pasta, I remember feeling incredibly relieved. All I had to do was fix one thing and I wouldn't be sickly anymore. Finally!
Of course, the one thing was kind of a big deal, and it remains a big deal. I don't define myself by a condition, but there's no denying its impact on everyday life. Potlucks are minefields and going out to eat often requires advance planning. But the payoff is enormous. I feel alive again. I wouldn't trade that for any cupcake, ever.
