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gluten-free, dairy-free, sugar-free mango (mini) muffins |
I'm not much of a recipe writer (or food photographer), probably because I'm not much of a recipe follower. As with knitting patterns, I'm compelled to tinker, to substitute, to not have to run to the store for that thing I just don't have. But, tonight I made some muffins, and they were good. Good enough to entice an elderly cat to climb up onto a rather high table to have a wee taste. And, good enough to encourage a recluse to peek out from behind the curtains.
As I eat fewer and fewer things, my life has become increasingly about procuring the next meal, worrying about what will be available should I be stranded somewhere, and how to approach social eating. My life has become less about blogging (ahem) and about being social in general.
I have escaped from my weirdness by enclosing myself in a protective layer of comfortable aloneness. I can't be accidentally "glutened" if I don't allow gluten in my house, or myself out. I can't mistakenly ingest some allergy inducing dairy, or migraine inducing sugar if I am vigilant enough, if I am safe enough. Except that sometimes I slip, sometimes I don't read a label carefully enough, or learn that vitamin E should make me suspicious, or that corn makes me ill. The dangerous world seeps in.
I know it's an excuse, but it really doesn't feel like one. I don't feel like I have an option; I know, intellectually, that I do. But, this is the story of fear, the one that must come before the story of courage. This is the part where I admit that I have allowed semi-legitimate fears to validate absurd ones, thus creating an overwhelming ecosystem of anxieties.
With nowhere left to cower, my instinctual urge to seek shelter thwarted, I am left to be squeezed into near nonexistence, or to change. I hope I can do it, because being invisible isn't nearly as fun as we've been led to believe.