By Karina Reeves
No. No one has been calling me cupcake (wishful thinking) but isn’t funny how as soon as you aren’t able to do or eat something that is all you can think about? Okay, no gluten, no sugar, no fun. I get it. It isn’t even that difficult (most times) but lately I’m having crazy dreams every night.
One night during the first week of gluten detox I was watching TV and there was this commercial with the most delicious looking cupcake! It was topped with the thickest, most beautiful hot pink frosting with sprinkles … the kind of icing that has so much food coloring it will stain your face. Okay, let me note that I don’t normally eat a ton of sweets nor drool over them in commercials. But, I dreamt about that damn cupcake for two weeks! TWO WEEKS!!!! It is crazy and I’m not exaggerating at all. The dream progressed from looking longingly at the cupcake to tasting the frosting to rubbing my face in the icing. I was ravishing that cupcake like an animal. Yes, I’m completely embarrassed to admit it but it’s the truth.
Every day I woke up in a sweat, exhausted and probably in an imaginary sugar coma. As I said earlier, I was never one to eat sweets all the time but once it is off limits you can become obsessed. And, as everyone points out I can make gluten free treats but that isn’t the point. I want to be healthier and making gluten free cupcakes is a viable option but I think it’s more important to focus on not eating gluten and truly acknowledge the changes I must make for my day to day life. It’s not just about eating or not eating cupcakes.
Now, for the most part, I have just cut out starchy carbs … bread, pasta, rice, potatoes. I know, I know…rice and potatoes aren’t foods with gluten but I felt I needed to eat basically the South Beach Diet way and then add in some rice or a potato once in a while. My body sure works much better now. And…I feel and look a hell of a lot better too! I never realized how puffy and swollen I was just because of something I ate especially as I have gotten older. I knew something was wrong for 12 years and I am so glad I didn’t give up. You must be your own advocate and if instinctually you feel something isn’t right you must keep looking for an answer. Don’t get me wrong … I’m not happy to have Celiac but it’s something manageable and I am so relieved to finally have some answers. I never realized the damage gluten did to my body because it wasn’t anything that you could pick out. My weight always seemed more a consequence of being puffy or swollen more than it did from fat. Not that I don’t have any weight to lose but I am being “kind” to myself…which is a new thing for me. While I am getting used to this new nutritional path of mine, I am not pushing any other huge changes.
I have developed a few tools to keep myself focused. Every morning around 10 I fix myself a snack. I go to the kitchen (in the office) grab myself a big bowl and fill it with sliced cucumber and bell pepper with some grape tomatoes. I snack on it for an hour or two. My co-workers found it odd at first but it really keeps me sane and satiated.
So, overall I’m doing okay. I’m still pretty plain in my food choices but I’m hanging in there with not much difficulty. Now, I’ve never been someone that constantly ate bread and pasta but once I gave it up, my senses have been heightened. I have complete willpower because this isn’t a choice…gluten is poison to my body and that’s how I must look at it. There are times that the smell of bread is so tangible that I can almost taste it. For instance, last week I went to the mall and as soon as I stepped onto the marble floor the smell of Auntie Anne’s pretzels was so strong and yummy, I actually stood for a minute with my eyes closed thinking about how good it would taste. It only took a quick moment to realize how incredibly bad I would feel within a half hour. Or, when my sister ordered take out for us and I could smell the bread from her sandwich. It’s incredible how that happens. I felt bad because she apologized and it didn’t bother me but I should probably keep my every observation for my blog.
This weekend might be difficult because I’m going out to dinner for my friend’s birthday. We’re going with her family and a couple friends … did I say we’re going to an Italian restaurant? It is an Italian restaurant specializing in crazy good pasta dishes. I didn’t feel comfortable enough to say anything and hopefully they will serve other things other than pasta. I will, however, bring an Atkins bar (sans wheat) just in case.
If anyone has anything they would like to share, I look forward to hearing from you. Wish me luck at my dinner this week!

When the phone rings no one hopes that it is the doctor.

By Karina Reeves

So, I thought that my 40s were going to be the best years of my life. I’m not saying this year has not been good but it’s definitely been filled with loss, grief, discovery and growth. A growth spurt, in the spiritual sense but just as painful as that physical growth you had in the sixth grade. But, the most important lesson of this year was learning to live within the moment. To really LIVE.

I’ve always been a dreamer and while many things have come to fruition … I haven’t accomplished as much as I’ve wanted due to fear. One easy example of this is my fear of being thin. Most of my life, I’ve been what I call a “chubbette.” The fear of being thin was always greater than the familiarity of being overweight. Don’t get me wrong I’ve been playing with the yo-yo of weight loss and gain practically my entire life but I’ve also learned to be honest…and, that is the plain ole truth.

Sometimes what we need but can’t achieve is taken out of our hands and instead of something we’d like becomes something we need. This brings us to the subject of this blog. A month ago I went to the doctor’s for a check-up, which usually includes a little blood work. The week after my blood work, the doctor’s office calls and lets me know that I have a Vitamin D deficiency but everything else looks good. This isn’t a big deal, just need to take a supplement and not avoid sunlight like a vampire (which if you knew me would be hilarious because you can’t get much more “white girl” than me.) So I think, “Okay, two caramel calcium chews with vitamin D and I’ll be good.” I asked her the result of the other tests and was told everything else was in the normal range.

The very next day the doctor’s office calls again and tells me I am borderline diabetic. (And for those of you that do not know what that is, the America Diabetes Association defines it as when the body does not produce enough insulin or the cells ignore the insulin. Insulin is necessary for the body to be able to use glucose for energy). The nurse says that I must get my sugars under control or I will develop full blown diabetes. I know this to be true because diabetes runs rampant in my family. For once in my life, I was actually frightened about the possibility of diabetes if I didn’t get my ass in gear. My father’s diabetes is so severe that at times his retinas bleed. He describes it as looking out and seeing streams of blood coming down as if he was watching it happen outside himself. There was no way in hell I was going to let this happen to me especially when it can be controlled with food. Before hanging up, I asked the nurse if that was the only thing that was abnormal (because I can’t handle them calling me every day with a different thing!) She said that nothing else was out of range.

Two weeks later, the doctor’s office called me AGAIN!!! “Are you kidding me? Really?” What the hell was the matter with me now? I specifically asked what the results of the other test were and was told everything was fine. I mean, come on!!! The nurse said that the gene panel came back. I thought all the tests were already back but apparently not. The gene panel showed that I do have Celiac Disease. (According to Celiac.com, Celiac Disease is also known as the body’s intolerance to gluten which is food grain antigens such as wheat, rye and barley.)

Recently I’ve done some reading about Celiac Disease and it turns out that most of the odd medical symptoms I’ve had for over a decade are also symptoms of Celiac. I’ve had medical oddities that no doctor in any specialty has been able to figure out for years (actually 12 years). I had given up finding out what I actually had because over the years I’ve gone to as many doctors practicing as many specialties (all passing me off to another doctor/specialty.) I was thrilled to maybe have an answer to my 12 year mystery. Not that I wanted Celiac but idea of knowing and not living with the frustrations and symptoms of a medical mystery is exciting. Yes, it changes everything about my life and how I will live but it reinforces living in the present. I say this knowing that this part of my journey is starting and not every blog will seem like a pep rally but I hope to give you worthwhile information, make you laugh, maybe give you some tips and hopefully get some tips from you that we can pass onto others.

So, needless to say, at 40 years old, I’m trying to figure out who I want to become and how I’m going to get there. I am hoping you will share this journey with me or at least read it to see what happens (the good and the ridiculous) as I change everything in regards to my nutrition. I’m sure some crazy stuff in the other areas of my life will seep its way into the blog.

The Tale of My Imaginary Boyfriend

By: Karina Reeves

Like any child growing up in the 1970′s, I adored Sesame Street. But one thing always bothered me: why were Big Bird’s pals always just missing his best friend, Snuffleupagus I didn’t understand that he was Big Bird’s imaginary friend. I thought they must just have bad timing.

Fast forward 30 years and springtime had just thrown me my own Snuffleupagus. It all began on the dating website plentyoffish.com. I was browsing to see what kind of single men were located near me in New Jersey, using it as my Internet catalog of potential suitors. One day, while perusing my”catalog” I received an email from a very cute New Jersey guy who said he was hurt and disappointed when he saw I had viewed his profile but chose to move on without a word. I don’t know what it was about that email or profile but I couldn’t resist sending a saucy reply. And so our little mating dance was born. Little could I have known how something so spontaneous and simple could end up being anything but simple.

Ron was 36 and worked in the mortgage industry. He was funny, smart and I couldn’t wait to meet him in person. Almost immediately, I couldn’t remember what my life was like before he touched it. He became the first person I spoke to each morning and the last one I spoke to each night.

As we got to know each other, he told me he was up for a promotion and wanted to wait a little before meeting in person. Usually this would be a deal breaker but I was drunk on that romantic springtime air, so I went along. I broke my Internet dating rule, which says if I don’t have a face-to-face meeting after 5 conversations (whether texts, emails or phone calls) then I say goodbye because we’re wasting each other’s time. It doesn’t matter the reason because the bottom line is that the person is obviously not serious about meeting me.

With each text, email and phone call, time progressed—as did our feelings. Yes, there were red flags here and there but the good feelings were so good I told the doubts to “shut the hell up”. I’m guessing it became an addiction that I couldn’t live without anymore. Our conversations were so constant that often times I wondered how either of us got anything done but that kind of intensity can’t last forever. Ron sent the first “good-bye” email saying that we shouldn’t talk anymore because I deserved more than what he was willing to give me. It wasn’t fair to me and I wholeheartedly agreed. On paper it read more like a love letter than a good-bye and made me cry, but he was right—I did deserve more but I had hoped the “more” would come from him. It felt like such a complete cop out and I grieved for what could have been. Why was he ending it? Because he might have to relocate across the country if he got this great promotion? Who cares? I would be thrilled for him and would be fine taking it slow and seeing where these feelings could take us, even in a long-distance relationship. But it wasn’t fine with him. I moped around through the horrible springtime days with their fragrant flowers and disgusting blue skies hoping this rotten mood wouldn’t last forever.

Three days hadn’t gone by when Ron contacted me asking how I was. He was miserable and realized he was falling in love with me. I was ashamed to admit it but I felt the same way but that’s completely crazy! We couldn’t be falling in love! We had yet to meet in person. I had finally met a man that I could be myself with…except at that moment I wasn’t able to throw myself into his arms and revel in this news. Now that he has realized he’s fallen for me he had to meet me, right?

Wrong! After a month of more than 1,000 text messages, countless calls and emails I began to ask him the same question. I began to push and apparently one night I pushed too hard. He was pissed. HE was pissed?!!! What about ME? This time I wrote the love letter, I mean good-bye email. He replied with an “I love you but you deserve better.” Again, very true! And again, after a couple days Ron contacted me to say he missed me. The dance began again. Well, no one can say I’m not an optimist. They could say I’m naive (and, probably have) but, I thought we had a chance.

I was 37 years old and had been alone for a long time not unhappily but felt it would be nice to have someone in my life. I thought a little time with Ron was worth more than a lot of time with anyone else. He didn’t believe me. He said that the women in his life had said the same thing but hadn’t meant it. Well, not me. Anyone who knows me knows that I would rather be alone than with the wrong person. My mother always said that there are worse fates than being alone and she (as usual) is right. I told him real relationships were about compromise but apparently I was the only one willing to do so.

I hoped he would find out about the promotion soon because my patience and understand were nearing their end. Then one day he called very upset. He got the promotion and leaving New Jersey for the beaches of San Diego. He shared how he has worked his whole life to get here but didn’t understand why it didn’t hold the joy he thought it would. (Oh, I know you hear the swell of music but don’t get too excited.) He was committed to his plan and even love wouldn’t lead him off course. He cried as he delivered that news as if to let me know that it hurt him just as much as it did me. Because of the promotion he was emphatic never to meet because it would ruin everything. He would be a “goner” (his word) and trash his plan. Was I just slapped in the face or am I just that powerful a force? He loved me so of course, I would ruin his life. Who knew I had that kind of power? I felt confused and lost.

Inevitably, I began asking myself the usual questions: How did I get here? How could I have let myself get into this situation? It seemed so cliche. Who would have imagined a person could truly fall in love with someone they had never met, never touched, never would meet, never would touch, never would kiss? Not me. The ache I felt to see and touch him was nothing compared to the pain I felt knowing that he never really loved me (or, at least not enough) and that I had to let whatever this was…go. How is it possible that I had a broken heart if we’d never met? Sometimes I still ask myself that question when he pops into my mind.

You see, meeting through the Internet begins quite harmlessly. It’s safe, fun, uncomplicated and can quickly become a set-up for heartbreak. It allows you to feel open and free with the ability to truly be yourself because you’re behind that virtual wall. As we get older we tend to guard ourselves more when we are out in the face-to-face dating world but lose all common sense when browsing the Internet catalog of dating. I know I’m not the only person that fell head over heels for a Snuffleupagus.

I learned many things from my experience with my imaginary boyfriend. Even though I wasn’t seriously looking for a relationship somehow this man made me want to see where the journey would take me and it was fun (at least at first). I entered the experience honestly and with the truest intentions. Ron? I can’t speak for him. I can only speak for myself and some of the thoughts I’ve had over the past year. Yes, possibly this was just a game to him but for what purpose? I could torture myself thinking that the countless times he had told me he loved me were lies, but why? Is it so wrong to cherish the sweet and beautiful words he spoke and wrote to me? What good would it do to doubt what he had said to me? We wrote each other thousands of texts, emails that read like love letters and had sweet phone calls that lasted hours. I prefer to think what we shared was beautiful and so right in so many ways but not for what either of us needed or wanted at that moment in time—but it does not lessen the importance of it in our lives.

What do I feel about my Snuffleupagus a year later, as the aphrodisiac of spring re-emerges? Do I still love him? Am I still broken-hearted? As unbelievable as it probably sounds I did truly love him and the experience changed me. The one thing that I will tell you is that I love myself a hell of a lot more than before Ron entered my world. That’s the true love story here. Living through this bizarre love affair made me realize the love for me had to come from within myself before it could ever be found with someone else. I fell in love with myself and that will be a love that will never hurt me.

If I could tell Ron anything today it would that he was right. I do deserve more and the man that eventually catches me will be a very lucky man!

Karina Reeves has been a Marketing professional for over 15 years.  She now is turning some of that time toward her writing with humor, grace and a style that is all her own. Karina can be reached atkarinareeves@yahoo.com

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