The Invisible Labor of Celiac
The mental load of constant vigilance that no one else sees, and how to acknowledge it.
No one sees how much work this takes.
They see you eating dinner. They don’t see the hour you spent researching this restaurant. The call you made to the chef. The backup snacks in your bag. The anxiety you managed before arriving.
That’s the invisible labor of celiac disease.
What It Actually Takes
Every Meal
Before eating anywhere, you:
- Research ingredients
- Check labels (sometimes multiple times)
- Assess cross-contamination risk
- Make backup plans
- Manage anxiety about whether it’s truly safe
That’s mental energy expended before the first bite.
Every Social Situation
Before any gathering with food, you:
- Wonder what will be served
- Decide whether to eat beforehand
- Prepare to explain (again)
- Steel yourself for possible comments
- Plan your exit if the food isn’t safe
That’s emotional labor no one else performs.
Every New Place
Before traveling, you:
- Research restaurants in advance
- Pack emergency food
- Locate grocery stores
- Prepare for language barriers (if international)
- Anticipate worst-case scenarios
That’s logistical work others don’t consider.
Why It’s Exhausting
Decision Fatigue
Every food decision requires analysis:
- Is this safe?
- Can I trust this source?
- What if they made a mistake?
- Is it worth the risk?
That’s hundreds of decisions daily that others make on autopilot.
Hypervigilance
Living with celiac means constant alertness:
- Scanning for hidden gluten
- Watching for cross-contamination
- Noticing when something seems off
- Never fully relaxing around food
Hypervigilance is exhausting. It’s meant for emergencies, not daily life.
Emotional Management
On top of the practical work:
- Managing anxiety
- Processing frustration
- Hiding disappointment
- Performing normalcy
That’s emotional labor on top of everything else.
What Others Don’t Understand
”It Can’t Be That Hard”
People see the outcome, you eating safely, not the work it took.
They assume it’s simple because it looks simple. They don’t see the iceberg below the surface.
”You’re So Good at This”
Competence is invisible labor’s curse. The better you manage, the easier it looks.
No one congratulates you for the crisis that didn’t happen because you prevented it.
”Just Eat Before You Come”
As if that solves anything. As if you don’t still have to navigate the social dynamics. As if preparation isn’t itself labor.
Acknowledging the Work
To Yourself
Tell yourself the truth:
- This is hard work
- This takes real effort
- This matters
- You’re doing something difficult daily
Self-acknowledgment isn’t self-pity. It’s honesty.
To Others
When appropriate, you can say:
“Managing celiac takes more planning than people realize.”
You don’t have to explain everything. But naming it can help.
In Community
Other celiacs understand. The relief of being with people who know, who’ve done the same invisible work, is profound.
You’re not explaining. You’re sharing.
Managing the Load
Simplify Where Possible
- Develop routines that reduce decisions
- Have go-to safe foods
- Keep restaurant cards that explain your needs
- Batch your research
Structure reduces mental load.
Accept Imperfection
- You can’t control everything
- Some situations won’t be ideal
- “Good enough” is sometimes enough
- Perfection isn’t possible or necessary
Share the Load
- Let safe restaurants know you appreciate them
- Let friends who help know it matters
- Delegate when possible
- Accept help gracefully
Rest
The work is real. Rest is therefore necessary.
Give yourself permission to be tired. To opt out sometimes. To need recovery.
A Prayer for the Weary
Lord, You see the work I do that no one sees.
The calculations. The vigilance. The endless management.
When I’m tired, strengthen me. When I’m unseen, remind me that You see.
Help me carry this load with grace, and help me set it down when I need to rest.
Amen.
The Unseen Effort
You’re doing something hard every day. The work is real, even when invisible.
Let yourself acknowledge that. Let yourself be tired. Let yourself need support.
And know that the work you do, the labor no one sees, keeps you healthy. It matters, even when no one notices.
You notice. That’s enough.