Earlier this year, I wrote a post called Gluten-Free and Judged: Why Every Coeliac’s Journey Deserves Respect. It was personal — a bit raw, a bit ranty — and it came from a tough place.
I’d had a bit of a kicking on Reddit, classic me, wandering into the wrong corner of the internet like a gluten-free biscuit at a wheat convention so I took a step back. I wasn’t looking for sympathy, but after getting a verbal battering for how I manage my coeliac life, I felt like I had to say something. Not just for me but for anyone who’s ever felt side-eyed or shamed for the way they navigate gluten-free life. The post was my way of drawing a line in the gluten-free flour: every coeliac journey is different, and all of them deserve respect.
And now? I’m back with the follow-up. Because something brilliant happened that reminded me why this community at its best is worth shouting about.
A Room Full of “I Get It”
Recently, I stood at the Northamptonshire Gluten-Free Festival, surrounded by hundreds of people and not once did I feel judged.
Every stallholder knew what coeliac disease meant not just the textbook definition, but the lived reality. The stomach-churning anxiety, the cross-contamination worries, the endless ingredient sleuthing. And every visitor? Supportive. Kind. Curious. Whether newly diagnosed or decades deep, there was this beautiful unspoken bond. A mutual respect for everyone’s path. No superiority. No shaming. Just gluten-free folks, doing their best.
There’s No One Way to Be Coeliac
And that’s the thing, isn’t it?
There’s no single blueprint. No rigid manual. Some people bake from scratch with scales and spreadsheets. Others rely on packaged food and meal deals. Some avoid oats. Some don’t. Some won’t eat out. Others eat out often carefully.
All of it is valid.
That said, there are some things coeliacs will always need to do the same like avoiding gluten at all costs. That part’s non-negotiable. It’s not a preference. It’s not a lifestyle choice. It’s a strict medical necessity. But how we each navigate that gluten-free tightrope? That’s where things can (and should) look different based on our lives, experiences, and comfort levels.
Managing coeliac disease isn’t a purity contest. It’s about safety, survival, and sanity. And sometimes it’s about trial and error plus a lot of “learned the hard way” stories that end with a bottle of loperamide and a new level of paranoia.
Kindness is Gluten-Free. Let’s Dish It Out Generously.
The festival reminded me of what happens when we leave the judgement behind and lean into empathy. When we look out for each other. When we say, “You’re doing your best and that’s enough.”
Because when someone:
- Reads every label like they’re defusing a bomb
- Asks a waiter a dozen questions
- Carries backup snacks and a backup plan
They’re not being difficult. They’re being careful. And possibly traumatised. But mostly careful.
What Happens When We Choose Empathy
When we stop judging and start supporting, amazing things happen:
- Parents of newly diagnosed kids feel less alone.
- People speak up in restaurants without shame.
- More of us feel safe enough to show up, ask questions, and live fully gluten-free.
And honestly? That’s what it’s all about.
The festival wasn’t just a fun day out (although it definitely involved a lot of samples and a dangerously low bank balance). It was proof that our community can be kind, thoughtful, and strong. We can lift each other up instead of tearing down someone’s plate because it doesn’t match our own.
The Takeaway (Not the Risky Kind)
If the first post was a defence of every coeliac doing their best, this one is a celebration of what happens when we support each other doing just that.
Let’s carry that same energy everywhere into our online spaces, our kitchen tables, and the awkward moments in restaurants when someone says “it should be fine.”
Because as we say at The GF Table:
“May contain humour, definitely doesn’t contain gluten.”
But most importantly?
May contain kindness.
…Alright, I know that last bit was a bit corny. Possibly one step too close from turning into a Hallmark card. But I stand by it gluten-free kindness is real, and unlike a supermarket “may contain” label, I actually mean it.
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