How I’m Coping With My Celiac Disease Diagnosis (The Things Actually Helping Me)

Getting diagnosed with celiac disease is life-changing.

And not just because of the obvious dietary changes.

There is the newfound (and oh-so-fun) food anxiety.

The fear of restaurants.

The learning curve of asking questions and navigating meals at trusted friends’ and family members’ houses.

The worry about accidentally getting sick.

The fear of passing this disease on to your children.

It is a lot.

For me, the anxiety came on quickly and with a vengeance. It disrupted my everyday life in a way I honestly wasn’t prepared for.

But I was determined to find a way forward.

I knew I couldn’t spend the rest of my life afraid of food.

So, I started trying anything I could to get back to myself.

Stick with me, y’all, because some of these things might sound a little “woo woo,” and I totally understand that they may not be everyone’s cup of tea.

But I’m here to say…

They have genuinely helped.

(At least for me—and honestly, that’s the only experience I can speak to.)

Daily Walking

It’s no surprise that movement is one of the most powerful things we can do to support our mental and physical well-being.

My goal is eventually to get back to lifting weights, but right now, a simple 30-minute walk has been the perfect place to start.

The best part?

It requires almost no planning.

No complicated schedule.

No special equipment.

Just a pair of sneakers and a little bit of time.

Walking has helped tremendously with releasing some of the anxious energy that came along with my diagnosis and has given me a little time each day to clear my mind.

Guided Meditation

I was skeptical about this one at first too.

But at this point, I was willing to try almost anything to get back to feeling like myself again and to be more present in my own life and with my family.

I downloaded a free meditation app, and when things start feeling especially heavy, I give myself 10–15 minutes to sit, breathe, and follow along with whatever the guided meditation suggests.

Is it magic?

No.

But it does help me interrupt those anxious thought spirals and remind my body that I am safe in this moment.

The biggest thing I’ve learned is that you have to be open-minded and actually give these things a chance.

Therapy & Acupuncture

I wrote about this more in “Glutened: 6 Ways I’m Resetting My Nervous System,” but I want to reiterate that these continue to be helpful tools even after the initial panic settled down.

I found a therapist who specializes in chronic conditions and an acupuncturist who has celiac disease herself.

Having support from professionals who understand the physical and emotional side of chronic illness has been incredibly valuable.

There is something comforting about talking to someone who doesn’t need you to explain why this diagnosis has affected you so deeply.

They already understand.

Hobbies

During the first couple of months after my diagnosis, I spent almost all of my free time Googling.

Researching.

Reading Facebook groups.

Trying to learn every single thing I possibly could about celiac disease.

While educating myself was important, somewhere along the way I realized that all the Googling was no longer helping—it was actually fueling my anxiety. And in the process, I had stopped making time for the things that made me… me.

I wasn’t creating anymore.

I wasn’t making things just for the joy of making them.

I’m an arts-and-crafts dabbler.

Definitely not an expert at any one thing.

But there is something about getting those creative juices flowing that feels woven into who I am.

Whether that’s plucking away at my ukulele, painting weird little cat portraits, getting my hands muddy sculpting ceramics, or sitting down to write…

Those things remind me that I’m still the same person I was before my diagnosis.

Celiac disease may have changed how I eat.

But it doesn’t get to take away the parts of me that make me me.

So lately, I’ve been intentionally making room for creativity again.

Not because I’m trying to get good at any particular hobby.

Just because creating makes me feel alive.

Connection

Do not skip out on social events because of your new food anxiety.

I repeat…

Do NOT skip out on social events because of your new food anxiety.

Human connection matters.

Your friends and family (the good ones) want to know what is going on. They want to know how you’re feeling and what they can do to help keep you safe.

I have successfully eaten at several friends’ houses over the past few weeks without getting sick.

It just took some conversations, a little education, and maybe a tiny bit of…

cough

…micromanaging.

Okay, maybe more than a tiny bit.

But seriously, you are not a burden.

The people who love you would much rather have a conversation about gluten-free food than have you sitting at home feeling isolated.

And if you have the conversation and realize there won’t be any safe options available?

That’s okay too.

I’ve also attended social events where I simply packed my little cooler lunchbox with something safe for myself.

The goal isn’t perfection.

The goal is still showing up for your life.

Safe Foods

I mean…

This one feels obvious.

But I have been splurging on gluten-free treats.

And yes, this has not been great for the ol’ grocery budget. (You can read more about that here.)

But right now, I am okay with that.

When you are grieving your old relationship with food, sometimes having a safe snack or treat that makes you feel normal again is worth the extra money.

Eventually, I know I will find more balance.

But for now?

I’m focused on finding gluten-free foods that make me feel like I’m not missing out.

The key is finding those go-to products that you genuinely enjoy and keeping them on hand for the moments when food feels hard.

Learning to Trust Myself Again

I think this is the biggest thing I’m working on right now.

Celiac disease requires vigilance.

You have to ask questions.

You have to read labels.

You have to be aware.

But you also have to learn how to live.

I’m slowly learning that being careful does not have to mean being afraid.

And while this diagnosis has changed the way I approach food, it doesn’t get to take away my ability to enjoy my life.