For almost 15 years, I’ve lived with a severe soya allergy — the kind that can lead to anaphylaxis, the kind that means one wrong ingredient can turn an ordinary meal into something dangerous. Because of that, I’ve spent years quietly navigating events, parties, celebrations, workplace meals out and even simple meeting lunches… often choosing simply not to eat.
Not because I didn’t want to.
Not because I wasn’t hungry.
But because I didn’t want to become a burden.
And this is the part people rarely see.
When you have a life-threatening allergy, every restaurant becomes a risk assessment, every catered meeting becomes a calculation, and every workplace social comes with a quiet internal dialogue:
“Will I be safe?”
“Will they take this seriously?”
“Will I look difficult?”
So for many years, the easiest option was to just avoid the situation altogether.
The Power of Feeling Included in Small, Everyday Moments
What people often don’t realise is that inclusion isn’t just about policies, strategies or the big organisational commitments. Sometimes, it’s about one meal.
It’s the lunch order at a meeting.
The sandwiches at a training day.
The menu choice at a team night out.
The catering at a conference or awards ceremony.
Trying to cater for people like me — even in small, simple ways — is one of the most powerful acts of inclusion there is. It tells me:
- “You’re not a problem.”
- “Your safety matters.”
- “You deserve to participate fully, just like everyone else.”
It doesn’t make me feel singled out or different. It makes me feel safe, respected, and seen.
Am I The Problem?
Recently, I messaged a restaurant politely asking for allergen information before booking. Their response?
“We don’t serve people with allergies due to possible cross contamination.”
And I can’t explain how that felt.
Even though they may have thought they were being cautious, what I heard was:
- You’re too difficult.
- Your needs aren’t worth accommodating.
- It’s easier to exclude you than to try.
That wasn’t just disappointing — it was disheartening.
A simple request for information turned into a moment that reminded me how quickly people with dietary needs can be pushed aside. Not intentionally. Not maliciously. But through a lack of understanding about how something so small can affect someone so deeply.
The FREDIE Awards: The First Time I Could Eat Without Worry
At this year’s NCFD FREDIE Awards, I experienced something I honestly haven’t felt at an event, workplace meal, or social gathering in over a decade:
Comfort. Safety. Inclusion.
For the first time, the entire menu had been carefully and intentionally catered around allergies and dietary requirements — not as an afterthought, not as a “special dietary request,” but as a built-in part of the experience.
It meant I could sit with everyone else, eat the same meal, and simply enjoy my evening without fear or frustration. Not worrying about ingredients. Not analysing every bite. Not feeling like the odd one out.
And that feeling of being included — truly included — is something I won’t forget.
Because this is what inclusion looks like in practice.
It’s not grand gestures.
It’s not corporate statements.
It’s the small, meaningful details that tell someone:
“You belong here.”
A Call to Restaurants, Event Organisers, AND Workplaces
You may not think dietary requirements matter that much.
You may think it’s too complicated, too risky, or too time-consuming.
But to someone like me, it means everything.
Whether it’s a workplace lunch, a team dinner, a conference, a training day, or a formal event:
- A little effort → a huge impact
- A small adjustment → genuine inclusion
- A few minutes of care → someone’s safety, comfort, and dignity
If we truly want to build inclusive spaces — in hospitality, workplaces, and beyond — then we must recognise that inclusion lives in the details.
And sometimes, inclusion looks like a seat at the table with a meal I can actually eat.
