Chapter Four : The Anxiety of Leaving the House

For years I smiled through the pain.

I hid symptoms, pushed through reactions, and refused to let my stomach dictate my life. The reality is, that these aren’t exactly things people talk about openly. They’re uncomfortable, embarrassing, and often easier to pretend aren’t happening.

Even now, sharing this feels vulnerable.

But since my reactions have become more severe and my body more sensitive, I’ve noticed something else creeping in alongside the physical symptoms: anxiety.

The closest thing I can compare an FPIES reaction to is food poisoning. Most people have experienced food poisoning or know someone who has, and if you have, you know exactly what your first thought is:

“Please let me be home when this happens.”

You don’t make plans around getting food poisoning. You don’t wonder if the restaurant properly cleaned a surface. You don’t think twice about touching a door handle and then absentmindedly touching your face.

Until suddenly, you do.

Since my diagnosis, I’ve found myself looking at the world differently. My overthinking brain is constantly running scenarios. Every surface feels like a potential risk. I wash my hands more. I spend more energy reminding myself not to touch my face. I think through situations that never used to require a second thought.

They’re small changes individually.

Together, they’re exhausting.

What I’ve come to realize is that learning you have Adult FPIES doesn’t just change what you eat. It changes how you move through the world.

The good news is that I’ve been here before.

As a high-functioning, high-anxiety human, I know this heightened anxiety won’t last forever. Right now everything is new. I’m still learning. I’m still building confidence. I’m still figuring out what safety looks like in this new reality.

But I also know myself.

I’ll gather tools. I’ll create routines. I’ll learn where I can relax and where I need to be careful. Little by little, what feels overwhelming today will become more manageable.

Not because the diagnosis changed.

But because I’ll adapt.

And if there’s one thing chronic illness has taught me, it’s that humans are remarkably good at adapting.

Thank you for being here. 💕