The first time it happened, I was two years old.
I was at some type of playgroup event when my "boyfriend" at the time offered me a crumpled up peanut butter and jelly sandwich he'd kept hidden in his fist, just for me. This was A) adorable B) absolutely disgusting and C) probably the most life-changing moment of my existence.
This might sound dramatic because it was only a sandwich--a really gross one, but still, a sandwich--but this was the day I discovered that sometimes sandwiches can kill me. Fun stuff.
I devoured the entire thing and ran over to my mom. "Mommy! I just had peanut butter for the first time! It was so good and--" I didn't get to finish my sentence because, by this time, I had a steady stream of vomit coming out of my mouth and my throat was already beginning to swell up. In case you didn't know, it's nearly impossible to talk when you can't breathe and your throat is closed tight.
I dimly remember one of the moms at the event anxiously fishing Benadryl out of her pocket to give to me and shortly thereafter my mom was driving me to the ER. I was lucky, because I didn't die that day. But, I was quickly diagnosed with a severe peanut allergy. My mom was told that I most likely never outgrow it and that there was no cure, so basically I was screwed.
At the time, food allergies were a fairly new thing, at least food allergies of this nature. Before then, kids usually outgrew them in a few years and rarely died from them. But I was one of the first of a generation full of kids who could die from touching a nut. That wasn't easy for my parents and I to adjust to, because having a food allergy affects every aspect of your life.
Eating.
This is probably the obvious, but also the most important. I eat every bite with the looming threat of death hanging over me, and I've become oddly cavalier about this fact.
I always am a little shocked how much my friends freak out when I casually say, "Hey, so if this food I'm eating starts to kill me, just hit me with this Epi-Pen and immediately call 911, okay?" As if that's not normal dinner conversation. That's just how life works, right? Every meal is like Russian Roulette. But then I remember, oh no, that's just my life. Normal people can just eat, like normal people.
Planes.
Do not get me started on planes. I hate flying and try to avoid it as much as possible in order not to inconvenience my fellow fliers. However, sometimes a plane is your only option, which sucks when you're allergic to peanuts a.k.a the traditional plane snack every one looks forward to.
You have to be the jerk who gets peanuts banned for the whole flight, which usually results in a bunch of grown adults booing and pouting--which is honestly a little much, guys. Occasionally, you also get some grumpy passenger who throws peanuts everywhere in hopes it'll kill you, but that's a rarity.
School.
Younger kids always prey on the weak amongst their peers, and when a peanut can kill you, you're the weak. I was bullied extensively growing up. I'm talking finding my backpack full of peanuts, having peanuts thrown at me, having people pretend to wipe peanut butter on me, and, during my senior year of high school, having an entire classroom of kids scream "Darwinism! Survival of the fittest! Nature wants you dead!"
Some teachers and parents of classmates also took part in being rude to me. This is another thing that shocks people when I bring it up so offhandedly, but I've honestly heard it all at this point. Luckily, most people were super nice about it and I'm really grateful to my friends and teachers who did stick up for me.
So, if you're wondering why I felt the need to write about this, no, it's not for pity. I hate pity. I detest it. This has been my life for eighteen years and I am more than used to it. I do, however, want people to understand the struggles associated with food allergies a little better.
Often, people will say, "Wow, it must be so hard not eating peanuts," when that's honestly the easiest part. Food allergies are so much more than not eating your allergen. So, in honor of Food Allergy Awareness Week (May 13-20), I just wanted to raise awareness for the condition I've had since I was two.