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I guess it’s official because I finally broke my gluten free diet and am no longer gluten-free.
Yep, after 16 years of being a diehard gluten free diet advocate (and even running a whole business called Gluten Free School), I’ve reintroduced gluten into my life—and it’s been one of the most surprising and liberating shifts in my healing journey.
In today’s episode, I’m getting real and vulnerable about my 16-year journey to stop being so afraid to try gluten again (and how I recommend clients with gluten sensitivity try reintroductions if this is something you’re considering).
This is not about saying everyone should eat gluten again. In fact, if you have Celiac or a wheat allergy, this advice isn’t for you.
But if you've wondered “is gluten bad for you?” and you're feeling pulled to reevaluate your relationship with gluten—or any food you’ve restricted for years—this episode is for you.
Because sometimes, healing isn’t about cutting more things out… it’s about reclaiming what truly nourishes you.
Let’s dive in 💛
Or, listen on your favorite app: iTunes (Apple Podcasts) | Spotify | Stitcher | TuneIn | Subscribe on Android
In This Episode:
- Why I used to believe gluten was the devil (and how that belief shaped my identity)
- When fear—not symptoms—keep you tied to diet eliminations
- The problem with gluten-free diet alternative products
- How I slowly reintroduced gluten (without freaking out)
- Steps + tips to try gluten again (that I share with clients)
- Types of gluten that you should start with
- Why you should have Zyrtec on hand before reintroducing common allergens
- How food connects us—and why reclaiming those moments matters
Quotes
“For the longest time, I was convinced gluten was the devil. But now? I see it as a starting point—not the destination.”
“We’re conditioned to be afraid of food—especially after chronic illness. But healing also means questioning what still serves you… and what doesn’t.”
Links
Get help with your skin so you can reintroduce foods like gluten. My virtual clinic works with adults worldwide – Learn more HERE!
Healthy Skin Show ep. 305: Eliminations Diets, Food Fear + Healing Skin Rashes {NEW RESEARCH}
Healthy Skin Show ep. 233: Should You Go Gluten-Free to Stop Eczema, Psoriasis or Other Rashes?
391: Why I Broke My Gluten Free Diet After 16 Years + Started Eating Gluten Again (What I Recommend To Clients with Gluten Sensitivity) {FULL TRANSCRIPT}
Welcome back to episode 391 of the Healthy Skin Show podcast!
I have a confession to make—and it feels important to share. I’ve mentioned it in passing on social media and on past episodes of the Healthy Skin Show, but today I want to officially say it:
I’m no longer following a gluten free diet.
That might come as a surprise, especially if you’ve followed me for a while. I was once a staunch advocate for cutting gluten out of your diet. In fact, I spent years talking about the benefits of going gluten-free and why I believed it was the right move for so many people.
So yes—this is a big shift.
And if you’ve seen the occasional photo of a sourdough croissant pop up on my Instagram… now you know why.
In today’s episode, I want to share what this gluten free diet journey has looked like for me—why I made the decision to reintroduce gluten, how I did it, and what I’d recommend if you’re considering a similar path. If this is something you’ve been thinking about or feeling called to explore, I hope this gives you some insight and reassurance.
Is Gluten Bad For You… REALLY?
If you had asked me even two years ago whether I could ever see myself eating gluten again, I would’ve laughed in your face. That’s why sitting here now, openly sharing that I do eat gluten—albeit not all the time or every day—feels a bit surreal.
For the longest time, I was convinced gluten was the devil.
That belief started back in 2008, when I first began working with a nutritionist. She took one look at my intake form and asked, “Have you ever heard of something called gluten?” At the time, I was struggling with severe brain fog, unexplained weight gain, extreme fatigue—I just didn’t look or feel well. Removing gluten and starting a gluten-free diet seemed to make a significant difference.
That experience became proof. It became my identity.
So much so that I launched an entire website around it called Gluten Free School—which, to be honest, I’m relieved to no longer run. As I became more involved in the functional medicine space, I met countless practitioners who reinforced the idea that gluten was inherently bad for everyone. According to that narrative, if you had a health issue, gluten was the root cause.
That belief still persists in many circles today. But more and more professionals—especially in the nutrition world—are starting to acknowledge that there might be another way. And that realization was part of my evolution.
Over time, I successfully reintroduced eggs… then all types of dairy (yes, all of them are back in my diet now). Gluten was the last holdout.
And if I’m being honest? The main reason I avoided it wasn’t because I needed to prove a point—it was fear.
Fear rooted in years of conversations with people who seemed absolutely convinced gluten was a massive problem for everyone. I had even hosted a podcast before this one called The Gluten Free School Podcast, where I interviewed many experts on gluten-related issues (only the transcript is still available).
One of those guests was Dr. Alessio Fasano, a leading Celiac disease researcher. He’s done extensive research both in Italy and the U.S., not just on Celiac disease but also on non-Celiac gluten sensitivity—something that seemed to describe me at the time: reactive without any clear medical explanation.
Funny enough, I never asked him one critical question: Do you eat gluten? I always assumed he did, but I never actually asked.
Should You Follow A Gluten Free Diet For Life?
For a long time, the prevailing message for a gluten free diet was simple: just remove gluten. Blanket removal was touted as the golden ticket to reducing inflammation and managing autoimmunity. And to be fair, there is some truth to that—it can be helpful, especially in the beginning.
But I now see it as a starting point, not the destination.
Unless you have Celiac disease or a wheat allergy, going gluten-free shouldn’t automatically be seen as a lifelong sentence.
Unfortunately, that’s the narrative many people receive: cut out gluten forever, stick to a strict elimination diet, and your autoimmune condition will magically resolve. Antibodies will drop. Symptoms will vanish. Life will be good.
But it’s rarely that simple.
What concerns me most is the tendency to treat diet—especially restrictive diets—as the end-all, be-all solution. There’s so much more going on beneath the surface. The gut microbiome, for example, plays a massive role in how autoimmune issues manifest. Certain cytokines linked to chronic skin issues also appear in other autoimmune conditions. And simply removing gluten doesn’t address that deeper inflammation.
We need to zoom out and ask more critical questions. How much can diet help? And where does its power stop?
It’s so tempting to believe diet alone can fix everything. I just watched that Netflix drama based loosely on a real story called Apple Cider Vinegar—about a real Australian woman who lied about having glioblastoma and curing herself with diet.
Though obviously dramatized, it was a good reminder: we have to use discernment when it comes to health advice we take from strangers on the internet. We need to ask more nuanced questions about the health advice and assess the credentials of the “expert” before buying in.
As for gluten – I do think a gluten-free diet can reduce certain types of inflammation. It’s also an easy first step—cheaper and more accessible than running functional labs or doing expensive protocols. But that simplicity can come at a cost.
A lot of gluten-free options are highly processed, nutrient-poor, and spike blood sugar. Many contain GMO crops (especially corn), and rice flour often comes with elevated arsenic levels. And then there’s the price tag—gluten-free packaged foods are not cheap. Eating out? Expect to pay $3–$5 more per meal, even if you’re just getting a burger patty with a sad little side salad.
Now, I’m not saying we should all be eating gluten, or that processed gluten is a great alternative. But let’s not romanticize the gluten-free swap either. Just because it’s gluten-free doesn’t mean it’s better.
Yes, things are more accessible now than they were when I started in 2008. And if you think gluten-free products are bad now, trust me—they were awful back then. I remember eating a rice tortilla that literally felt like chewing on cardboard.
Sure, there are fancier options these days. There’s even a bakery here in Philly run by a French pastry chef who makes gorgeous gluten-free desserts. But if you’ve had the real thing, you know—they’re not the same.
Travel can also complicate things. While Italy is surprisingly easy for gluten-free eaters (I’ve been many times), other places are a different story. Even in California where my sister lives outside San Francisco, I’ve had trouble finding solid gluten-free options. New York City? Much better. LA? Hit or miss. It really depends on where you are, who you’re with, and what’s available.
The other reality is that most people try to recreate their usual diet using gluten-free versions. And most of those swaps are more processed, higher in sugar, and lower in nutrients.
That’s what concerns me. We jumped to gluten as the problem without ever really asking: why is this happening in the first place? What’s actually driving these autoimmune issues?
And more importantly: is it possible to rebuild tolerance to gluten?
What if, instead of avoiding gluten forever, we worked on healing the gut, supporting nervous system regulation, and improving overall function? What if we patched the holes in the boat rather than just bailing water?
That’s what I’ve been exploring. And if you’re seriously considering reintroducing gluten, I want to share some things that helped me navigate that process.
Is Sourdough Bread Gluten Free?
What I’m about to share is how I reintroduced gluten into my diet. But before I dive in, I need to make something very clear:
If you’ve been diagnosed with Celiac disease or have a wheat allergy, this is not for you.
Please don’t take what I’m about to say as advice in those cases—these are serious medical conditions that require strict, lifelong gluten avoidance.
I offer that disclaimer because sometimes people tune in and only catch pieces of a conversation. So I want to be upfront—this is my personal journey, and it’s not a one-size-fits-all recommendation.
One of the reasons I’m so grateful I made this change happened a few months ago, when I visited a dear friend in Mexico City. We hadn’t seen each other in years—life, COVID, and distance had kept us apart. One night, she ordered several sourdough pizzas for dinner. We all sat around the table laughing, reminiscing, and making new memories. And for the first time in a long time, I could fully participate. I didn’t have to stress about the ingredients or feel like an outsider—I simply got to enjoy the moment and the meal.
That evening reminded me of how deeply food is tied to community, connection, and celebration.
And if you’re someone who can’t participate in those moments because of your health, I truly feel for you. I’m not saying there’s anything wrong with needing to eat differently. But I also know what it feels like to be on the outside looking in—to feel left out of the shared experience. That’s why this moment was so meaningful to me.
Now, I had actually started thinking about reintroducing gluten about eight months before that trip. There’s a bakery in Chestertown, Maryland—founded by Dr. Bill Schindler and his wife Christina—that makes true, traditionally fermented sourdough. I even had Dr. Schindler on the Healthy Skin Show to talk about their process.
My mom and husband had been bringing home little goodies from their bakery for months. And while I appreciated the gesture, I always had to say, “That looks amazing… but I can’t eat it.”
Over time, though, I started asking more questions. I talked with their team about their fermentation practices, and I gradually became more comfortable with the idea of trying something.
If you’re wondering is sourdough bread gluten free…
No, sourdough bread is not gluten-free.
If someone tells you otherwise, they’re misinformed. Traditional fermentation does break down gluten and make it more digestible, but that doesn’t make it safe for those with Celiac or a true wheat allergy.
I began my reintroduction with a three-day fermented item—of all things, a croissant.
Yes, I know… probably the most indulgent thing I could’ve picked. But after years of eating gluten-free croissants that didn’t come close, I was curious.
The first time, I only ate half. I wasn’t sure how I felt afterward. And to be honest, that uncertainty was partly due to hypervigilance. When you’ve avoided a food for so long, it’s easy to over-analyze every little sensation and wonder, Is that a sign? Should I not be doing this?
We’re conditioned to be afraid of food—especially when we’ve dealt with chronic health issues.
The next day, I ate the other half. And… I was fine.
From there, I gradually introduced other items. I stuck with the three-day ferments, then worked my way to their one-day fermented sourdough. Eventually, I tried their sourdough pizza, soft pretzels, and other baked goods.
I’m not eating this stuff every day—but the ability to enjoy it, guilt-free, has brought me so much joy.
Maybe it’s because I’m Italian and I love food, but there’s just something about real flavor—the buttery layers of a croissant, the tangy chew of sourdough—that you can’t replicate. And for me, being able to enjoy those experiences again, with intention and confidence, has been worth the journey.
How To Reintroduce Gluten To Your Diet
If you're thinking about reintroducing gluten, here are my suggestions based on what worked for me—and what I’ve learned along the way.
1. Check in with yourself first.
Ask yourself honestly:
Is the hesitation you're feeling rooted in food fear—or is it an inner knowing that now just isn’t the right time?
That distinction matters.
If you’re currently very symptomatic—whether it’s skin issues, gut problems, or anything else—this might not be the best time to experiment. Of course, you know your body best. But in my experience, it’s wise to wait until you’re in a more stable place before trying to reintroduce something that might be reactive.
2. Only reintroduce one food at a time.
Never reintroduce multiple eliminated foods all at once. If you have a reaction, you won’t know what caused it. When I tried the sourdough croissant for the first time, it was the only new food on my plate—so I could clearly connect any reaction to that one item.
3. Start with true sourdough—not just any bread.
I strongly recommend beginning with a traditionally fermented sourdough rather than jumping into a random whole wheat bread from the grocery store. Fermentation helps break down gluten and make it more digestible—but not all sourdough is created equal.
Most of the sourdough on store shelves is fake—it may be labeled “sourdough,” but it hasn't been properly fermented and won’t offer the same benefits.
If you haven’t already, check out my interview with Dr. Bill Schindler. We discuss how to identify real sourdough and what to look for if you want to give it a try.
4. Consider trying ancient grains—when you’re ready.
I haven’t gotten to this part of the journey yet, but some people find they tolerate older forms of wheat better. Grains like spelt, kamut, and einkorn are considered ancient varieties, and their gluten structure is different from that of modern wheat. If you’re experimenting down the road, they may be worth exploring.
5. Use organic flours—and store them properly.
If you’re planning to make your own sourdough (like I am now!), opt for organic flour whenever possible. Also, be mindful of how it’s stored. Flour has a shelf life—usually about 3 months—and if stored improperly, it can develop mold.
To keep your flour fresh:
- Avoid leaving it in the paper bag it came in.
- Transfer it to a sealed container (like an airtight Tupperware or glass jar).
- Store it in a cool, dry place.
Moldy flour is obviously not what you want to be baking—or eating.
How Long Should It Take To Reintroduce Gluten
A gentle reminder as we wrap up: Approach this process with grace.
Healing takes time—more time than most functional or integrative wellness books would have you believe. You know the ones: “21-day fix,” “heal your gut in a month,” “reset your life in three weeks.”
But when you’re living with chronic illness—no matter the degree or severity—it’s not that simple.
My journey has taken 16 years.
Looking back, I realize I delayed a lot of healing because of food fear. That’s why I keep coming back to discernment. Yes, we all have a deep inner knowing… but that voice can easily be drowned out by fear—fear planted by well-meaning practitioners, rigid protocols, dogmatic wellness influencers, and even our own desperate search for relief.
For me, the turning point didn’t happen overnight. It took months of asking questions, researching, and just sitting with the discomfort before I finally felt ready to try. And if it hadn’t felt right? I would’ve waited another six to eight months. No shame. No rush.
Also, just a practical note:
Because wheat is one of the top nine allergens, it’s a good idea to have some Zyrtec on hand when reintroducing it—just in case. I’ve learned from interviewing allergists that Zyrtec is actually more effective than Benadryl for food reactions. We can sometimes develop new sensitivities to foods we’ve eliminated long-term, so it’s wise to be prepared.
But here’s the thing I want to leave you with: There’s real, meaningful joy in this process.
This hasn’t been about indulgence or gluttony—it’s about connection and reclaiming experiences I didn’t realize I’d lost.
One of my favorite memories was eating a homemade meal with family friends in Bologna, Italy. The mother made everything from scratch—including the tagliatelle alla Bolognese. We ate on their little balcony, overlooking a parking lot, and it was one of the most soul-nourishing meals of my life.
And in that moment, I felt like I was reclaiming a part of myself I had spent years trying to suppress or avoid. I wasn’t consumed by worry. I wasn’t obsessing over ingredients. I was just… present.
This shift has been life-changing. Not because of bread or pasta, but because I’ve stopped cutting out pieces of myself unnecessarily. Yes, gluten-free served a purpose. And for many clients, it still can be helpful on their journey.
But I also believe that long-term, we do ourselves a disservice when we make food the sole villain and stop asking deeper questions.
So if you're like me—curious, cautious, but feeling pulled toward the idea of reintroducing gluten—I hope this gives you something to reflect on. If you have tried it, I’d love to hear from you! Are you baking your own sourdough? Sourcing it locally? How is it working for your body?
Or if you haven’t taken that step yet, what’s holding you back? What are you still trying to understand or feel safe around?
For me, with each answer to questions I asked filled a little well of courage—until I finally had enough to give it a shot. And even if it hadn’t worked out, I’d still be glad I tried.
Because that’s how we grow—not from perfection, but from curiosity, courage, and grace.
I’d love to hear your comments and thoughts below!
