I'll start off by saying I'm shocked I don't have feathers by how many chicken fingers I've ate. I'm 22 and work with only women in a spa. You can imagine the looks I get at lunch time when I'm eating dinner rolls and granola bars. I wish I could push this page in their face and say "SEE! I'm not the crazy person you think I am!" My worst stories include

1. in college when a girl found out and put an orange peel on my leg as a joke to see me have a complete 2 year old meltdown over it. I went into full hysterics as if someone put a severed finger in my lap.

2. Being told I wasn't invited to a friends wedding because she wouldn't have anything on the menu I would like to eat. As if that's a problem.

I'm like everyone else, I won't go to dinner gatherings with people, and am so thankful of the few family members who have FINALLY understood this isn't a choice, it's a curse, and no longer push foods into my plate (because let's face it, the second it touches another item, it's all contaminated). This page is the best blessing I've found.