My body has changed so much since I decided gluten foods weren’t for me. I’ve lost weight. Almost 10 pounds. I have increased energy. My hair is shiny again and my nails are thicker and less brittle. I feel more optimistic and my bouts of depression are all but gone. I feel more able, more conscious, and more optimistic. My menstrual cycle is 30 days. It used to be 45. I don’t have the cramps, headaches, foggy head, and prolonged bleeding that made me sleep 18 hours a day. My stomach isn’t bloated and gassy 20 minutes after eating a meal. Digestion is more regular. And my mind is clear. No more coasting along in a fog. But the biggest change I feel is evenness. I don’t know if others who have discovered their own gluten intolerance have experience this, but I don’t feel like I am surfing through life on adrenaline anymore.

I couldn’t put my finger on what my hang up was called. But book spines needed to be aligned. Flat surfaces needed to be cleared. Bills in my wallet needed to be ironed out and facing the same direction. Color-coded was my middle name and the label machine was like a third appendage. Pantry items needed to be stored in neatly stacked matching containers. Laundry needed to be folded all the same way. And all personal effects in my life needed to be neat, even, clean, and organized. That was the thrust of organizing-life a year ago when I began writing this blog. So much has changed.

All these perfectionist and obsessive impulses felt urgent. Butterflies flew in my stomach as I surveyed the messes. My teeth clenched and my shoulders tensed when my schedule was thrown off by a missing baby sock. I got angry when my husband didn’t share my “weekends are for to-do lists not for family fun” attitude. I felt pent up, anxious, panicked, and adrenaline surged until the week before my period and then I’d drift into a semi-consciousness, foggy, sleepy, and unable-to-participate state of existence.

I was talking with my husband the other night and I told him I feel less harried. I don’t feel severely driven, anxious, and nasty annoyed at kid messes anymore. I don’t feel the obsessive urge to organize my space in spite of real life. I don’t feel paralyzed when a shirt is put back in the closet facing the wrong direction. And I don’t feel as supremely competitive.

I still have perfectionist habits, though I am trying to soften those too. I still fly around the house picking up socks, diapers, kitchen utensils, and apple slices from the living room floor when my in-laws stop by unexpectedly. I still feel more zen-like when the piles are put away and when I plan my week on Sundays. But I am on a journey to find my happy medium in the middle.

I used to think that depression, anxiety, and stress were psychological symptoms of lifestyle. But I had no idea that these emotional responses could be physiological. But this experience has taught me a dietary intolerance can change who I am. How I respond to life. How I treat others. And greatly impact my mental health. I would have thought I needed psycho therapy and medication to live with my anxiety, depression, and PMDD symptoms. With a new holistic health perspective I now believe all I needed was to eliminate gluten from my diet. Funny how body functions are so interconnected.

Disclaimer: I am not a doctor and this article isn’t meant to be medical advice. Here I am simply recounting my personal experience discovering my own gluten intolerance. I have not been medically diagnosed with Celiac disease, but I do choose to adhere to a strict gluten-free diet. If you have suspicions that your body isn’t working well, consult with your doctor and do your research. Although a gluten-free lifestyle isn’t easy for me, it eliminates my need for medication and it allows me to live, be present, and to love. You may find a similar discovery all your own.