The social isolation is no joke — but let’s try to have some fun today.

Yeah, those gluten-filled birthday cakes and wedding cakes used to celebrate family and friends are absolutely beautiful. Truly. Works of art.
But I’m totally fine staying away from that stunning confection of sugar, wheat, and butter. I don’t need all that fat and sugar in my diet anyway. Trust me — I’d much rather sit here and watch everyone else enjoy it.

Of course I don’t want to go to the hottest new restaurant in town. You know, the one with the amazing chef who was on TV, where they prepare fabulous new dishes every night. No, no — I definitely don’t want to try new food or hang out with my best friends.
I’d rather be at home, eating gluten-free pizza with a crust as thin as a cracker, watching reruns of Breaking Bad by myself. Dream evening.

I’d love to go on vacation. But obviously, let’s make sure the place has a kitchen so I can continue to cook every single meal we eat — just in a different location. Because nothing says “vacation” like grocery shopping in a foreign zip code.

The camaraderie of sharing a pitcher of beer while watching the game? Slightly less magical when I’m ordering a glass of wine and explaining, again, why that’s happening.

I’ve lived all of these scenarios. And about a million more. Situations where having celiac disease quietly leads to social isolation — even when no one means for it to.

And yes, I have friends and family who love me and try to understand. Truly. This isn’t about being unsupported.

It’s that the isolation doesn’t hit all the time.
It shows up occasionally.
At the important moments.
The ones where memories are being made.

That’s when it lands.
That’s when I’m reminded: I’m different.

That’s when celiac bites.

When does it affect you?