The Girl with All the Allergies

I'm incredibly prone to allergies.

The first time I went to my boyfriends for dinner, he handed his mother an A4 sheet of paper. Riley is allergic to seafood, mangoes, strawberries, eggs, milk, beef, lamb so please don't use them when you cook.

But there were just so many allergens. It was only after dinner that his mother remembered. I added a spoon of oyster sauce to the greens earlier, Riley. Youre not feeling unwell, are you?

Under their concerned gazes, I slowly shook my head. No, but arent I allergic to seafood?

My parents had told me all this. Because of it, from a young age, only vegetables were placed in front of me, while all the fish and meat went to my younger brother. I was often mocked by him Born with no taste buds.

Still disbelieving, after a long period of mental preparation, I drank a glass of milk, ate a piece of mango, and tried a large chunk of steak No reaction, nothing.

I couldn't help but burst into tears.

Starks mother was an exceptionally thoughtful woman. She knew about my allergies. A table full of eight dishes, all vegetarian. She untied her apron and spoke with a touch of apology. Riley, I know youre allergic to seafood, mangoes, beef, lamb, and over 20 other foods.

So, I made all vegetarian dishes, and even went light on the salt.

Please try it and see if it suits your taste.

This careful kindness warmed my heart. I ate small mouthfuls of rice, feeling both reserved and grateful.

However, when a bite of stir-fried greens entered my mouth, I froze. It tasted better than any plain stir-fried vegetable dish I had ever eaten in my life. I couldnt help but blurt out: Auntie, these greens theyre delicious! Much better than what we have at home. Did you use any special seasoning?

The moment the words left my lips, Starks mothers face changed as if shed remembered something, and she slapped her thigh. Oh dear! Her voice was filled with panic. I remember now! I added a spoonful of oyster sauce while stir-frying the greens to enhance the flavor! Oyster sauce it has oyster extract, which is seafood!

The air froze instantly. Starks face went white. He threw down his chopsticks, pulled me up abruptly, and rushed towards the bathroom: Do you feel a tightness in your throat? Difficulty breathing? Ill take you to the hospital right away! His mother also panicked, following behind, her voice trembling.

They pushed me in front of the sink, my ears filled with the rushing water and their anxious urging.

Rinse your mouth quickly! Several times!

But I just stared blankly at my reflection in the mirror, my mind empty.

No, I dont feel uncomfortable at all.

But arent I allergic to seafood?

I stood in front of the bathroom mirror. The face in the mirror was flushed with health, eyes clear. No redness. No rashes. I tried to take a deep breath, once, then again. There was no tightness in my chest, my breathing was steady. Everything was exactly as usual.

Yet my parents had adamantly told me I had a severe seafood allergy. The kind that would cause breathing difficulties, full-body swelling, even anaphylactic shock and death, if I merely touched it.

Riley, if it's really bad, should we go to the emergency room right now? Dont try to be brave. Starks mothers voice came from beside me. She held a glass of water, her hand still trembling slightly. Her worry was so genuine, so real, that it brought with it an overwhelming sense of absurdity.

I shook my head. For the first time in twenty years, I doubted the allergy that had been deeply ingrained in my life. My voice was a little dry. Auntie, I I seem to be fine.

Stark released my hand, but his brows were still furrowed. But didnt you say your parents said you had a severe allergy? Even a tiny bit would His words were cut off by his mothers urgent interruption. Riley, its good that youre alright.

Starks mothers eyes held a hesitant, unspoken message. There was panic, there was indecision. And a hidden hint.

The rest of the meal, I couldnt taste anything. Every bite was like chewing on wax.

When Stark drove me home, he tried to speak several times, his lips moving, but he ultimately just gripped the steering wheel in silence. It wasnt until the car came to a stop beneath my old apartment building that he finally turned off the engine, faced me, and quietly asked, Are you okay?

It was then that I snapped back to reality, realizing my hands and feet were icy cold.

Im so sorry, I forced a smile that was uglier than a grimace. I wasnt myself today. My first time meeting your parents, and I caused such a scene. I hope your family isn't too shaken.

Stark sighed, reaching out to gently ruffle my hair. Silly, Mom wont think anything of it. She was just worried about you. Go on up, take a hot shower, get a good nights sleep, and everything will be fine when you wake up.

I nodded, unbuckled my seatbelt, and opened the door to get out.

Riley, please dont overthink this, Stark called after me. Call me anytime if you need anything.

Okay.

But how could I not overthink it? My mind was in chaos. These past twenty years of my life felt like a meticulously woven lie, now abruptly unraveling.

Back in my tiny rental apartment, I didnt even bother to turn on the lights. In the dark, I fumbled for my phone. My first action was to order a lot of takeout. All the foods I had previously dared not even imagine, let alone eat. Milk, mangoes, steak, roasted chicken and even a steaming portion of seafood fried rice.

I arranged them one by one on the table. Picking up the carton of milk that once filled me with dread, I twisted open the cap and carefully took a small sip. The warm liquid slid down my throat, carrying a faint milky aroma. I held my breath, waiting. Waiting for my skin to itch, my throat to tighten. But nothing happened.

I picked up a piece of mango, then put it into my mouth. Next was the steak; I clumsily cut a piece with a plastic knife and fork, chewing it fiercely. Roasted chicken, cake I tried them all. Bite after bite. Greedily, almost frantically, I put them into my mouth. Yet, my body showed no adverse reactions whatsoever. My stomach felt full as never before, but my heart was as empty as a bottomless black hole.

I stared blankly, putting down my chopsticks. Looking at the empty containers, which I had devoured. Suddenly, a colossal, inexpressible sorrow. Like a tsunami, it crashed over me. The tears streamed down, unstoppable.

The scene before me blurred, yet my memories surfaced with crystal clarity.

Our family dinner table was always sharply divided. The side closer to my parents and brother was always steaming hot, fragrant with food. Shiny braised pork. Succulent hairy crabs. But on the other side of the table, in front of me, there was always only a plate of boiled greens and a bowl of white rice. The greens, blanched in water, without oil, just sprinkled with a little salt, lay limply on the plate.

My brother sat opposite, eating large mouthfuls of meat, his face gleaming with grease, while not forgetting to mock me with his childish yet malicious voice: Sis, you truly have no taste buds! Look at you, poor thing, just eating grass. He would even deliberately bring his oily hand close to my face, letting me smell the aroma, then giggle, watching the longing and restraint in my eyes.

Mom would give the last spare rib to my brother. And her gaze never once spared a glance for me. She just kept repeating the same words Id heard since childhood: Riley cant eat that, severe allergy, itll kill her. These words, like an invisible chain, bound me tightly.

At school, other students went to the cafeteria for their meals. They paid for their food and could choose from a variety of hot dishes. My lunch, however, was always a packed meal of boiled vegetables made by my parents. A cold lunchbox. Inside, only a few blanched greens. And some dry, hard rice. No changes. No surprises. My lunchbox stood in stark contrast to the abundant meals of my classmates. I always sat quietly in a corner by myself, quickly finishing the bland food. Afraid of being seen by classmates. Afraid of them curiously asking, Riley, why do you always eat that?

I dreaded those strange looks. The consequence of long-term malnutrition was that my body was smaller than my peers, my hair was dull and yellow, and my complexion was pale. During P.E. class, when we ran the 800-meter race, I was always the last one, my vision blurring and feeling nauseous halfway through. When my teacher asked about my well-being, my parents would simply say: This child has an allergic constitution, shes naturally weak.

That year I was seven, and seeing the plump, tender hard-boiled egg in my brothers bowl, I finally couldnt resist. While Mom was in the kitchen scooping soup, I, with lightning speed, poked a small piece of egg white with my chopsticks and popped it into my mouth. It was the first time I tasted egg; it was fragrant and soft. But before the taste could fully melt on my tongue, a hand fiercely grabbed my ear. Moms face was contorted with anger, her sharp voice almost piercing my eardrum: What did you steal?! She rushed over, grabbed my chin, and forcefully poured saltwater into my mouth. The bitter, salty water made me cough violently, tears and snot streaming down. She wasnt done, using two fingers to forcefully dig into my throat.

Spit it out! Spit it out! Do you want to die?! My stomach churned, and I threw up uncontrollably, leaning over the cold toilet. That humiliation and pain, like a branding iron, were deeply etched into my childhood.

From then on, I developed a physiological fear of those so-called allergens. My body would instinctively reject them, my brain would sound an alarm, telling me, that is danger, that is death. I never dared touch anything that might cause me an allergic reaction again.

But today, I ate oyster sauce, roasted chicken, steak, mangoes, drank milk I ate all the forbidden things, yet I was perfectly fine. I lay on the cold floor, curled into a ball, shaking with sobs.

Twenty-seven years. A full twenty-seven years. I lived in this colossal lie, like a donkey with blinders pulling a millstone, deprived of the right to taste the worlds delicacies, and branded with the label of frail and sickly.

The next day was Sunday, and my mothers phone call summoned me home, her tone allowing no refusal. At the dinner table, the same clear division, which I was long accustomed to but now found utterly ironic, remained. My father and brothers side was laden with braised pork hock, sweet and sour ribs, and a steamed sea bass proudly sat in the center.

My side, however, still only had a plate of boiled greens, not a single speck of oil visible. And a bowl of white rice.

Just yesterday, I might have felt a pang of injustice from the savory aroma of meat, but now, only cold mockery remained in my heart.

Honestly, I truly didnt understand. Our family wasnt poor at all. Both my parents worked in public institutions, with stable incomes. Not incredibly rich, but certainly not so destitute that I had to live like a child from a bygone era. Yet, they begrudged me even a single bite of meat, going so far as to concoct the malicious lie of a severe allergy, reinforcing this impression in my ears day after day.

Riley, My mother spoke first, carefully picking a fish bone from a piece of fish and placing it in my brothers bowl, her eyes, however, darting towards me. How was Starks mother yesterday? Did she give you a welcome gift? Her eyes darted around, the cunning and greedy glint almost spilling from her sockets.

Starks mother did give one, a thick red envelope, saying it was ten thousand and one dollars, for a one in a million good omen. But looking at my mothers calculating face, I simply lowered my gaze. No.

The fake smile on my mothers face instantly dropped, her lips downturned, and her voice became sharp. No? How can there be none?! Thats so rude! First visit, not a penny to show for it? This kind of family wont do, too much trouble, youll suffer for it later! She began to calculate to herself: Since their family is so stingy, the bride price cant be small! It must be twenty-eight thousand eight hundred, not a penny less! I raised you this big, provided you with good food and drink, I cant have done it for nothing, can I?

Good food and drink? My gaze slowly fell on the plate of boiled greens in front of me. What a grand joke.

So, how much dowry are you preparing for me?

My mother froze for a moment, then self-righteously said, Dowry? What dowry does a girl need? Well buy you a few new blankets, and youll marry off splendidly, thats enough.

Oh, I nodded, Actually, Stark and I discussed it. Modern weddings are popular now, and were not planning to ask for a bride price.

No! My brother, forgetting to chew his ribs, his eyes wide. Sis, if you dont ask for a bride price, how will I get the money to marry my girlfriend? My girlfriend said her family wont agree to anything less than a twenty thousand dollar bride price!

The moment the words left his mouth, everyone at the dinner table revealed different expressions. My father quietly lowered his head and ate, pretending not to exist. My mothers face turned red then white, she glared fiercely at my brother, and quickly smoothed things over. Eat your food! Children shouldnt interrupt adults! She turned back to me, her tone softening, with a hint of coaxing. Riley, dont say things in anger. Eat first.

Alright, eat. Under their three stunned gazes, I reached out my chopsticks, crossed that invisible line in the middle of the table, and steadily picked up a piece of braised pork hock from my brothers plate. Then, right in front of them, I took a big bite.

Youre crazy! My mother finally reacted, letting out a shriek, her whole body springing from her chair, her hand trembling as she pointed at me. Do you want to die?! Spit it out! Quickly! Her voice was identical to when I stole the egg years ago, filled with that ingrained horror.

But Mom, I dont feel uncomfortable at all.