It’s been a week since I went gluten-free, and I’m loving life.
My muffin-top has disappeared, my face has gotten thinner and apparently my skin and eyes are more clear than they used to be. I didn’t realize there was a problem until the problem went away.
Thankfully, in this day and age, it’s easy to eat gluten-free. There are cookies and crackers and cakes everywhere you turn if that’s what you want to eat, but I’ve been filling my days with fruits and vegetables mostly.
I eat rice and fish and very rarely, meat or chicken. I’m full, satisfied, not yearning for anything whatsoever. Seriously.
For my little guy and my nephew’s birthdays, my sister-in-law baked a gluten-free cake. We’ve been favoring coconut milk ice cream rather than dairy when we can help it.
I’ve just been so mindful about what to eat when. We stopped at Subway on the drive down to Edwardsville and ordered sandwiches without the bread. (a.k.a. salad) It was fine. Satisfied the hunger pangs and there was no stuffed feeling.
A week ago, when I started this, I made sweet potatoes for dinner and greens (spinach, bok choy), salad, fruit and black Chinese rice. The table was full of delicious colors and textures. I heaped a half of a sweet potato on my plate with no toppings whatsoever (with white potatoes, I always load it with cheese and scallions and salsa, creating a mountain to dig into).
The rest of my plate was different greens. It was a full plate and brilliantly colored and as I made my way through my dinner, I found I couldn’t even finish what was before me.
I felt full. Satisfied. Content.
How often does that happen with the junk we usually eat?
I did gluten-free as an effort to support my kids, mostly, and also a little bit to try to clear out the clutter in my own diet. I’ve found that it didn’t take long to not crave the bread basket at the Italian restaurant and my body looks and feels better.
So easy. And so long overdue.