To the Gluten Hating Part of Me,
I hate you. I hate you so much it hurts. It hurts to hate you. In fact, I hurt because you hate me. You simply cannot conceive of me enjoying myself in a delicious slice of toasted bread and butter or a plate of linguine in red sauce. You explode when I announce that all I’d need to make my morning is a honey bun. But why? What did I do to deserve that? What did I do to suddenly, one morning, wake up and feel as if my body was trying to repel the fantastic and tasty elasticity those bread gluing proteins provide? Honestly, please let me know, because I'm dying here.
For the majority of my life, I have safely relished in pastas, pastries, breads, and cereals to name a few. Birthday parties were celebrated in a combination of festivities and scrumptious cakes and cookies. Breakfast was adorned with my favorite morning meal: Cinnamon Toast Crunch. Thanksgiving was honored with warm and buttery Pillsbury Biscuits. That was for the first eighteen years of my life. Unfortunately, about a year ago, I discovered that you, my gluten despising inferior half, got all sensitive when I consumed even just a morsel of tasty protein.
Why?! I've been tested for celiac disease and guess what? It came back NEGATIVE. Do you know what that means? You petty jerk, who somehow has control of my digestive system, decided that I can no longer appreciate any kind of wheat product! I would like to simply say, why? What made you the expert on my colon and my body?
If you are interested in my opinion, at all, please reconsider your position on gluten. There is not a wealth of foods available for me to eat, especially since I've already made the choice to not eat meat, not to mention the part of me that hates lactose. The point is, my friend, I want to eat. I love to eat! I was made to eat! But I cannot eat, at least, not the foods I want to eat, because you took over the controls on my lower body. Please, I'm appealing to the humane part of you. Let me eat wheat!
The Gluten Loving Part of Me