Dearest friend, 
 
I write to you today because I love you!  
 
You are kind and understanding. Yet I hesitate to write this because experience has taught me that even the kindest people sometimes struggle to fully grasp what I am about to share.
You see, I am not just a mom; I am a food allergy mom. 
And that comes with a tremendous amount of constant care you can’t truly understand until you hold the title. 
“Food allergy mom” was not a line item that I ever expected to add to my life’s resume … but here I am. 
 
Why does this matter?
 
How we treat each other matters. Without being aware that I live with food allergies and what that looks like, it might cause friction in our daily interactions. 
Sharing this part of my life with you will help us to strengthen our accord.
Your benefit: a deeper understanding of my life and an opportunity to act with compassion. 
My benefit: being fully seen and loved in a reality where simple food is life-threatening to my child. 
You can’t know what you don’t know. I get that … It would be unreasonable for me to expect you to be aware and understanding of food allergies when you have never truly been exposed to their reality. 
 
So here is a glimpse of reality … 
 
It is learning how to read labels … every single time you purchase a product. 
It is knowing that sometimes milk is not called milk or that a company doesn’t have to disclose sesame oil in a product as long as the ingredients say natural flavors. 
It is spending hours in a grocery store and coming out with no new food options 
It’s about learning all the places food proteins hide. Because they commonly exist in non-food products. That means hand soaps, art supplies, makeup, beard oil, house cleaner, toothpaste, to name a few. 
It is countless hours with doctors looking at test results that can’t tell you the severity of a potential reaction because the test only measures how likely it is that a reaction would occur.
It is scouring the internet at all hours of the night looking for answers. 
It is learning how to cook again and rethinking all your habits in the kitchen because a single mistake can lead to cross-contact making food unsafe, even life-threatening. 
It’s trying to inform your family, friends, co-workers, teachers what your needs are, making sure to be clear and accurate, without scaring them but without coming across as crazy and overbearing. 
It is about kindly speaking up to educate someone when all you want to do is scream, “what are you doing?! that could kill my child!” 
It is learning the many ways anaphylaxis looks and how to respond when the day comes that you see it. 
It is finding accessible and affordable epinephrine, the medication that saves lives.
It is praying that you never have to use it. 
It is about NEVER leaving home empty-handed. But instead with bags of stuff: auto-injectors, antihistamine, inhalers, wipes, extra clothes, and food!
It is about always mitigating risk. At the park, the library, the museum, the family picnic, the birthday party, the bus, the baseball game, the grocery store (literally everywhere)
It is about teaching my child to be aware of and respect his allergies. To advocate and speak up. Without making him scared, anxious, or feel less than and left out. 
It’s about finding people who understand food allergy life and cherishing them. 
It is about finding a place between fear and complacency so you can live life but maintain a level of protection.
It is about all of these things and SO MUCH MORE. 
 
I often operate in the space of fear and anxiety, which is why sometimes I come across as unreasonable, overprotective, and maybe even a little crazy.