• A celiac disease diagnosis requires lifelong gluten avoidance for me to stay healthy and feel my best.
• At times, it has been tricky to navigate dining with family and friends.
• Clear communication is key, but it's also important to set boundaries and stand up for myself.

"I'm sorry, but if you go to that restaurant, I cannot join you," I said to my aunt over the phone. At the time, I knew the restaurant my aunt and the group she was with was planning to dine at wasn't going to work for me. I had previously contacted the restaurant and someone on staff informed me that they couldn't guarantee that my food would be free of gluten. For me, it was a hard no.

I have celiac disease, which is a chronic autoimmune condition that affects the small intestine, which can be damaged when it comes into contact with gluten. I was diagnosed a few weeks before I turned 18. While it wasn't a desired birthday gift, over the last eight years I've learned to live with this issue comfortably.

The treatment for this condition is straightforward: avoid eating gluten for all your life. While this might sound drastic, it is feasible. Most foods, like veggies and fruit, as well as protein and healthy fat sources, naturally don't contain gluten. There are a good number of gluten-free options among cereals and pseudocereals too, such as rice, corn, buckwheat, and amaranth. I just have to be proactive and know what I'm putting into my body.

Still, when dining out with other people or in other people's homes, celiac disease can be psychologically challenging. Here's how I've learned to manage some common scenarios.

When dining out I research and ask for information

Where I live in Italy, the AIC (Italian Celiac Society) maintains a list of certified venues that I know will have gluten-free options. However, I often want to dine somewhere else or I am not the one deciding the location. While AIC-certified venues are safer choices for people with celiac disease, I have become quite comfortable going to non-certified restaurants, provided that I check in with them beforehand.

When dining out somewhere I haven't been before, I usually call ahead to inform them I have celiac disease and inquire about gluten-free options. I also look at the restaurant's website to explore its menu, which sometimes it indicates potential allergens or states that the restaurant's staff is trained to help customers with intolerances.

Some months ago I was invited to a friend's birthday party. When I called the restaurant we'd be attending, the staff seemed knowledgeable about celiac disease, which was a good sign. At the dinner party, I reminded them of my condition when ordering a seafood dish. They told me there was an element with gluten but they would tell the chef to prepare the dish without it and to take special care. This made me feel cared for, which is always a pleasant experience.

When eating at someone else's house I explain my dietary needs

When dining at a friend's home, I often call to discuss the menu ahead of time. If other guests are having food with gluten, like pasta, I either plan to skip that course, ask for an alternative, or offer to bring something . If I have any doubts about a dish, I know to ask the host for clarification. If they are uncertain about the ingredients, I ask them if they checked if it contains gluten when they bought it. Based on their answer, I make my choice.

Now, my friends and family know that I have celiac disease, so I don't have to explain my dietary needs in-depth anymore. Still, I sometimes should be more thorough, specifically telling them that clean cookware is needed and that they should wash their hands if they have touched food with gluten.

I'm not afraid to stand up for myself

During that call with my aunt, we decided to change the venue and go to one of my favorite restaurants, an AIC-certified venue where almost all dishes have a gluten-free version (even pizza!). She assured me it wasn't an issue if this made me feel safer, so I enjoyed a delightful dinner with my cousin, my aunt, and a friend.

• I had a crush on my coworker and decided to tell him when my contract was up.
• He told me he was flattered but that he had a girlfriend.
• I wonder if the timing was off, but I'm glad I put myself out there.

I remember noticing him early on at my former job. He was funny and had a sunny smile, but he also struck me as confident and competent. A wave of excitement filled my heart every time he was around me, and I felt like a teenager with her first crush — even though I was in my mid-20s.

Maybe you don't like spoilers, but I do, so I will tell the truth right now. This is not a love story. This is a story of rejection after declaring my feelings to my former coworker when my contract ended.

I waited until my last day of work to finally confess my feelings for him, but I'm not sure it was the best decision.

I finally asked my coworker out

I didn't take the decision to tell him lightly. I debated with myself for a long time if I should tell him while we still worked together.

On one hand, I thought it would be heartbreaking for me if he politely declined and I had to see him every day. On the other hand, if he accepted my invitations and we began going out together, an awkward situation would arise. Even if we were working in different departments, being in a small company where we met every day surely didn't help my dilemma.

So, ultimately, I decided to come clean when my contract was finally up. When my six months ran out, I said goodbye to all my coworkers and devised a plan. I decided to finally confess my feelings as he stepped out of the office. Unfortunately, he didn't leave the office alone, so my plan was foiled. But I couldn't keep my romantic feelings to myself anymore.

When I got home, I wrote him a message, finally revealing that I had a crush on him and wanted to tell him in person, but there hadn't been an appropriate occasion. A few minutes afterward, I added that we could have a coffee together one day — if he wanted to.

My hands were sweating as I stared at the three dreaded bubbles showing he was typing. A long text message appeared; he was incredibly kind, even when rejecting me.

He said that he knows how difficult it is to declare your feelings, so he thanked me. Still, he was already seeing another girl.

Being rejected is painful. It can easily affect our self-worth and make us feel like failures. Even though I expected this rejection, I wasn't prepared for that intrusive emptiness that left me feeling lost and thinking that no one would ever want me.

Telling my friend what happened made things slightly more tolerable, but I needed a way to cleanse this intoxicating mixture of emotions from my body and mind.

Summer meant a lot of exercise classes in parks and on the beach. I decided to trade emotional pain for physical strain, and I went to a total-body class in July's heat. Moving my body and sweating felt amazing. It made me temporarily forget this situation.

I'm ultimately proud of myself

One question kept nagging me: Was it even worth telling him the truth?

But now that some months have passed, I don't have any regrets about how things went. Sometimes, I think if I had told him earlier, things could have gone differently, but anguishing over how something could have been is never sensible.

Regardless of the timing, I am proud of stepping out of my comfort zone and declaring my feelings. As an introvert, this can be incredibly challenging.

Even if it was painful at the moment, being rejected was better than remaining in doubt about his feelings.

Rejection is like a period at the end of a sentence. It can feel like an abrupt close, but endings often turn into new beginnings.