I have a confession to make.

I have gained a few pounds in the last six months, the exact number unknown, as I have refused to weigh myself. I don’t need that kind of negativity in my life. My face is rounder, my curves curvier. There’s just a little bit more of me to love now.

I also gained the ability to eat a multitude of foods that my body rejected for the last seven years.

I’m not even talking about your SAD standard American diet. My body refused to process the GOOD foods, fiber rich foods that pretty much EVERY diet says are healthy. Foods that bring flavor and vitamins and antioxidants. Foods that feed the soul.

For seven years I eliminated foods that caused me pain, foods that made me bloated. Foods that made me feel crazy. I became an expert at reading ingredient lists. I ate the same five fruits and vegetables that were safe when consumed in limited quantities. I took four separate medications to calm my body down and mitigate my symptoms. It allowed me to add a little flavor back into my diet, but I still had to be careful not to overdo it and tip the scales. I shudder to think how bad life would have been without those medications.

If there were potlucks, I brought my own food. I needed security that there would be something there I would be able to eat.

Before going out to eat, I looked at menus online to make sure there was at least one friendly dish, hoping there weren’t hidden ingredients waiting to sabotage me.

I became Meg Ryan in When Harry Met Sally.

“No garlic or onion, please.”

“No dressing”

“No seasoning”

“Do you know if the chicken is fresh or frozen?” Yes, it’s a Portlandia sketch, and yes, I had to ask the question, because I couldn’t eat fresh meat. Fresh meats contain higher quantities of histamine. Freezing stops the histamine growth process, so I was less likely to have a reaction from frozen foods. There was still a risk, as there is no way to tell how long it is before it’s frozen.

Did you know frozen chicken is rarely just chicken? The ingredients usually include water and salt but can also include “broth” or “spices”. When your three top offending foods are wheat, onion, and garlic, you learn quickly not to trust “spices”. You’ve suffered the consequences of “spices”.

“Can you make it plain, and I’ll add my own salt? I can only have sea salt.”

I couldn’t eat leftovers, so everything had to be fresh.

There had to be at least five hours between meals.

I used to joke that my body was a temple and would only accept specific offerings. And by temple, I meant old Greek ruins, decrepit and falling apart.

Dark humor is one of my favorite coping mechanisms. It’s either laugh or cry, and while I do cry a lot, I would rather be laughing.

It took a lot of energy and planning to eat.

I was feeding my body the best I knew how, but my soul was still starving.

Food brings people together. Food is a celebration of culture and heritage. There’s something magical about sharing a meal with your fellow humans. It has the power to break down barriers and unite us.

I was the specter of Ebenezer Scrooge in A Christmas Carol, hungrily watching Bob Cratchit and his family at their Christmas feast.

Six months ago, I made the decision to leave my job. I enjoyed my work and absolutely adored my coworkers, but I knew in my soul that I would never get better if I stayed. I took the leap of faith and put in my notice, and my health improved overnight. I had been putting in the work of healing my emotions and my nervous system for a year leading up to this point, but this decision was pivotal in my healing journey.

One of the first things I did after that was go to Trader Joes and buy all the food I had been missing. I almost cried as I put falafel in my cart. I’m tearing up now, remembering this beautiful moment.

I never thought I would be able to eat wheat again for the rest of my life. Now I have English muffins for breakfast every day, drizzled with olive oil, “spices”, and black garlic.

I am eating for joy.

I am filling my body and my soul with a wide variety of foods and flavors. Each bite is an act of worship to my corporeal temple.

As I get a little thicker and my clothes don’t fit as they used to, I am choosing not to diet. I can’t go back to limiting my food options and eating from a place of scarcity.

I love my body as it is in this moment.

I am healthier than I have been in years. I am stronger and more active.

I am throwing out the lies that our fat phobic society has fed us, that you can only be healthy if you are skinny, you can’t be fashionable or look good if you are overweight, your self-worth should be tied to your weight.

I have NEVER judged my friends by what size they are, why have I been judging myself?!

NO MORE!!

I don’t need to “motivate” myself to lose weight or “punish myself” for gaining weight by wearing ill-fitting clothes. I am worth getting new clothes that fit my body and make me feel fashionable and beautiful. I wouldn’t feel bad if I had to buy new clothes if I lost weight. Why is there shame attached for going up a size?

Our culture tells us in a million microaggressions that skinny is good, and fat is bad.

Media has historically only cast thin, beautiful people for lead roles. A little heavier? You get to be the funny friend!

Plus sizes are in a completely different section of the department store, even when the styles are EXACTLY THE SAME. Why can’t they all be in the same section, just with a wider selection of sizes? Why do we need to call it out and separate them? Have you ever noticed there’s not usually a mens plus size section? If there is, it’s okay, they’re just big and tall. I guess it’s only women that need to be body shamed. You gotta keep us girls thin and weak so we don’t take over the world.

I am beautiful as I am.

I can be fashionable whether I am a size 14 or a size 4.

It’s okay to eat from a place of abundance and joy.

Loving myself as I am right now is the best medicine I can give myself.

I recommend taking an implicit bias test for more information on the effects of microaggressions: https://implicit.harvard.edu/implicit/takeatest.html

For those curious about my former dietary restrictions, I struggled with SIBO (small intestinal bacterial overgrowth) and MCAS (mast cell activation syndrome). Both are common comorbidities for people with hypermobility, a genetic connective tissue disorder. It turns out connective tissue is everywhere in your body, including your gut! I followed low FODMAP and low histamine diets to manage my symptoms. I had a positive breath test for SIBO six years ago and finally received a positive test for elevated mast cell activity from a colonoscopy biopsy in April. It wasn’t all in my head. If you think you may be struggling with “unexplained” health issues, keep showing up. Keep advocating. Just because you may not have the answers yet, doesn’t mean that what you are experiencing isn’t real. Keep going. It could be finding the right doctor or the right test to have that “aha” moment.