On the Effects of Pizza Fetishism

Over the past year, I began to fetishize pizza. After the better part of a decade of leading a gluten-free lifestyle due to my celiac, I had finally found numerous pizza shops in my neighborhood with gluten-free offerings. I had the artisan pizza shop I brought friends to, the pizza shop I received delivery from, the pizza shop in walking distance where I could get a sub-ten dollar personal gluten-free pie.

And they were all good. In some, I was even able to order a gluten-free beer, and for 20 minutes - feign normalcy. And that was the root of the issue.

To me, pizza symbolized normalcy. It was what people ordered when they didn’t want to have to think. It was a cheap meal one could get on the go. It has sparked inter-city rivalries and embarrassed politicians who deigned not to eat it in a common manner. It is iconic in its ruling of the international fast-food pantheon alongside the hamburger, both acting as an ingenious delivery system of a theoretically balanced meal of carbohydrates, proteins, calcium, and vegetables.

Being celiac had long made me feel like a bother and an outsider. It made me feel uncomfortable to eat at other people’s homes or social events. I feared trying new restaurants, and frequented heavily the restaurants I knew well, consistently repeating dishes.

It was a constant reminder of my being different. A few years ago, I even began working on a technology to help people with dietary restrictions feel comfortable eating out. While it is currently on the proverbial “backburner”, I am happy to see more restaurants in my neighborhood making real strides towards providing options for all kinds of people.

But it wasn’t only pizza. I had my daily cappuccinos with frothy whole milk, my steak as a safe option while travelling abroad, my crispy gluten-free chocolate chip cookies from Trader Joes’ and my burgers with gluten-free buns from a half-dozen places in LA. The more I felt included in society, the less I recognized myself in the mirror and in pictures. I felt lethargic and depressed, and lacked all desire to exercise.

It all came to halting stop two weeks ago. Three unrelated events in a single 26-hour period forced me to reexamine my life and my lifestyle. After a day in bed and a failed attempt at some minor retail therapy. I decided to make a change. I began running again and eating a mostly plant-based diet, with some fish, chicken or turkey for needed protein. I began cooking again and making fresh salads (almost) daily. I eschewed coffee and dairy completely, choosing matcha and almond milk instead. I tweeted about my “beet lifestyle”.

The funny part is that I don’t crave a single thing. In such a short time, I feel healthy again. My productivity is back. Even the clothing in my closet I couldn’t imagine wearing a scant two weeks ago suddenly fits. I feel happy and energetic..

My professional lifestyle currently consists of working as the Director of Creative Innovation for a European distributed energy company, launching a new LA-based business with some insanely talented partners, attending fun events and writing for people who pay me money and planning a charity rooftop party for an amazing anti-trafficking organization in mid-March.

That isn’t completely normal either, I’m told.

Then again, normalcy is overrated.