Five years ago, I had to make a pretty big change in my life.

After being sick my entire freshmen year of college, four different blood tests, allergy testing and lastly an endoscopy, I was officially diagnosed with celiac disease. At first I was relieved. I finally had a diagnosis, a name to what was making me so sick for a year and that it wasn’t “all in my head” like some doctors suggested. Doctors told me I should be grateful because celiac disease isn’t as serious as crohn’s or ulcerative colitis. My new GI doctor told me celiac disease doesn’t have a cure but it does have an “easy” treatment: a gluten free diet. Eliminate all wheat, barley, rye, and malt from my diet.

I’m sorry, what?

At the time of my diagnosis, I had five main food groups: cheez-its, mini wheats cereal, tuna salad sandwiches, pasta & pizza, and oreos with peanut butter. For those of you who know me you know that at the time, not being able to eat cheez-its anymore was unfathomable. I was (and still am) the type of person who didn’t understand why people did no carb diets. Being told I had to eliminate gluten from my diet flipped my world upside down.

Thankfully, my mom is a dietitian and knew where to begin. She taught me the foods that I would need to stop eating and what to watch out for in ingredient lists. She also started researching celiac disease and various gluten free brands and recipes. My mom suggested I meet with the dietitian at JMU since she would know my options on campus better. So, I made an appointment with dietitian on campus and she was able to introduce me to the head chefs at D-Hall and E-Hall. I was given tours of both dining halls and we walked through what I could eat at every single station. I quickly learned gluten is in weird places, like salad dressing, soup and soy sauce. I had a few friends who were already gluten free and reached out to them for advice on navigating grocery stores and eating on and off campus. I had an amazing support system that helped me transition into a gluten free diet.

But I was miserable.

I missed eating the “normal” food everyone else was eating around me. But even more, I missed not being constantly anxious about food.What was I going to eat for my next meal? Would there be a gluten free option available at the dining hall? How sick will I get if I accidentally eat something that isn’t gluten free? I kept telling people, “It’s hard because I’m constantly thinking about it, eating isn’t just something we can ignore and it happens at least three times at day.” The only perk I saw in the beginning was at least now I had a valid excuse for not drinking beer, which I never actually liked drinking.

In the first year of being gluten free, I held onto hope that scientists and researchers were working hard to find a cure and that once they did, I would be able to start eating normal food again. But once eating gluten free became a diet fad, I lost all sight of that. It went from very little people understanding what gluten free meant to a large majority of people thinking I was doing this to lose weight. Servers didn’t (and often still don’t) take me seriously and cross contamination became an issue. People constantly asked if I lost weight or made comments like “Well at least you probably lost weight!” No, I gained weight because my intestines were able to actually properly absorb nutrients.

After explaining that no, I can’t eat that donut and not because I don’t want to but because I have celiac disease and am gluten free, people almost always say, “Well at least it’s so much easier now with all the awarness!” This is true, even in just the past five years I’ve watched gluten free food options and availability come a long way, but I didn’t see it as a positive aspect. I’ve always said I don’t understand why people willingly go gluten free and that if I had not been diagnosed, I would have never done it on my own free will. I was so incredibly bitter. Why on earth would you purposefully restrict your diet to not allow wheat?

Fast forward a few years: I’ve graduated college and am in the “real world” where apparently eating chicken nuggets and frozen pizza for dinner every night is not acceptable (just because I’m gluten free doesn’t mean I’m healthy). I’ve been proudly proclaiming that I hate cooking and I hate meal prepping and I don’t want any part of it. It’s too much work no matter what anyone says.

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Then, a few weeks ago I was listening to a podcast with a chef as the guest. The chef explained she stopped working in prestigious restaurants because the kitchens were so stressful she felt like all of her stress and negative feelings about the job were being transferred into the food and people were then consuming her negative energy. Now I’m not necessarily saying I believe in what she said, but I had an epiphany. I’ve had a negative view of my diagnosis and being gluten free for years. Whenever I have to explain I’m gluten free, it’s in a negative tone. When people point out that eating out gluten free has gotten easier, I respond with a negative statement. I semi-joke about cheating all the time. And I am the absolute worst person to be around when I have been “glutened” because I complain for hours about how miserable I am. My attitude around my diet is negatively affecting every part of my life that involves food. I think cooking gluten free is a hassle, so I just don’t do it. I think meal prepping is a hassle, so I just won’t do it.

I’ve slowly started cooking and meal prepping and unsurprisingly, it actually makes my life ten times easier and I eat better food and therefore feel better. To some, this epiphany may seem like a no-brainer. Of course I should have accepted my diagnosis and consequent diet change and not let it affect my life in such a large way. But for the past five years I’ve been having such a big pity party for myself, that I didn’t see it that way. It’s embarrassing to admit but I feel like I need to talk about it.

This realization has encouraged me to look at other areas of my life and get curious. What other thoughts/ideas, processes or stories am I holding onto that no longer serve me? What can I let go of? In a way, holding onto anger and bitterness towards celiac disease and a gluten free diet is easier for me than accepting reality and moving on. But this is something I will deal with for the rest of my life and being angry all the time is exhausting, so I’m changing the story.

This year, instead of just saying “happy gluten free anniversary to me!” and being bitter, I’m actually going to celebrate it. I am grateful that by simply changing my diet, I am no longer as sick as I was when I was 18-19 years old. I am grateful that even though there’s no cure, there is a solution that doesn’t involve heavy medication for the rest of my life. I am grateful my mom is a dietitian with a passion for food and always recreates gluten free versions of my favorite foods. I am grateful for all the people who have helped me over the years and continue to stick by my side, even when I was being a pain in the ass. I am grateful to have discovered the gluten free equivalent to cheez-its, finally.

And lastly, I am grateful for this journey. Because without it I would still be holding onto a grudge against celiac disease and my own body and I wouldn’t be trying to move my life forward in a positive direction.