Withdrawal? Withdrawal? ...Withdrawal?

/marks Withdrawal absent

I'm not sure how to feel about the withdrawal symptoms that many have warned me about being absent. I have heard that the first week is the hardest. I'm supposed to be moody, fighting cravings, and struggling with my own willpower. 

But I'm not.

Swan Dive

The hot Texas sun overhead beat down on my scrunched up nose as I squinted at the bright reflection on the pool's water. I should probably have been wearing sunscreen, but the babysitter hadn't thought we were going to be out all that long. The boy in front of me took a few steps forward and I subconsciously nibbled on my lower lip. The sound of water splashing and children squealing in delight were dulled as my own thoughts took over all of my senses.

I was in a line that terminated in a watery grave. As the line inched forward, I felt the eyes of all of my peers trained intently on me. The kids in front of me and the kids behind me were actors, and nobody was watching their performance. It was just me that they were judging. Finally, I reached a white set of stairs. A sharp whistle rang out, SHREEEEEEEETTTT! My head darted up to an older peer, perched on a high chair, his beady eyes looking straight at me. Judging me. Forcing me to walk the plank to my death. "One at a time!" he called, as if multiple deaths at one time was somehow frowned upon. The walkway in front of me trembled a bit, then took a giant leap up in the air, landing on its support with a metallic THUD. It was my turn.

I glanced at my peers behind me, who all looked back at me with judging, cruel eyes. I looked out across the water. Everything was standing still and everyone was waiting on me. I walked carefully down the walkway to where it ended. My heart was thudding uncontrollably. I desperately fought a paralyzing fear that threatened to take the use of my limbs away from me. One more quick glance around, and I stepped off. 

A moment of freefall in which I felt both terrified and intrigued at the same time, was followed immediately by the cool water enveloping me, and the air bubbles I'd taken with me tingled against my skin as they rushed to the surface. I opened my eyes just before my head broke the surface, and a huge grin spread across my face. I'd done it! I'd survived the diving board! I looked back at the line that'd been behind me, expecting wild applause, cheering, and chants for an encore. I got nothing. Just bored and impatient looks as they waited for me to get out of the way so they could have their turn.

I have been thinking today about how the beginning of this new lifestyle is similar to my first experience on a diving board.

Hello, My Name is Roberta and I'm a Gluten Fiend

The Last Supper.

Today’s meals have been a farewell to gluten. For tomorrow begins a 30-day experiment in living completely gluten free. Macaroni, brownies, cookies, pancakes…my diet today has been like the Last Meal for a comfort food-loving prisoner on death row.

My boyfriend thinks I’m crazy and has little faith in any positive results from the experience. But mainly his biggest complaint is that I will force him into a diet he doesn't want. One of my goals in this process is to convince him that he can still enjoy food, even if it is gluten free.

Let’s hit rewind and figure out how I got to this point.