Being gluten free and having celiac disease doesn’t define me — it’s simply a part of who I am.

Maybe you were expecting some grand revelation, some earth-shattering moment of enlightenment. Maybe this feels anticlimactic. But to me, it’s one of the most important truths I’ve learned.

I am humbled by an illness that comes from an infuriatingly invisible source. I am frustrated when my body refuses to work the way it should for what seems like no reason. Except I always know the reason: gluten.

I get angry about the things I can’t do. I hate that I can’t just try the latest food craze or new restaurant. I miss the camaraderie of a pitcher of beer and a large pizza with friends. Birthdays and weddings still make me a little sad because there’s never a gluten free cake waiting for me.

I put on a mask and pretend it’s fine when there’s no gluten free option for me — even when it’s from someone who knows I can’t eat gluten. I tell myself you’re busy, you’re juggling a lot. I try to hide the gnawing hunger because I assumed there would be something I could eat. Because I thought you saw me.

I live every day managing my disease, swallowing the frustration of being left out, and trying hard to look like I’m okay.

I push through with a smile because I refuse to let celiac disease take more from me than it already has.

But know this: while I keep pushing, I struggle in the quiet places I don’t like to talk about. I overthink. I make excuses. I exist in a world that isn’t built for people who can’t eat gluten. My only option is to put on a strong face, endure the ridicule, endure the hunger, and keep showing up — doing the best I can every single day.

Pushing through, refusing to let celiac define me, is the most important thing I’ve learned about having celiac disease.