Two weeks ago, I became a vegetarian. And it wasn’t something I intended to discuss here for awhile.
I’d known for awhile that I wanted to become one. It’s not that I really think it’s wrong, per se, to eat meat. It’s just that I live in a time and place where I have incredible options when it comes to food. And to kill another animal for food, when I have plenty of other healthy options just seems ……….. tacky. Wasteful.
I thought it would be hard, though. I’ve always craved a lot of protein. My comfort food is a roast chicken, cold, in my fridge. Carne asada is my idea of nirvana. So I thought becoming a vegetarian would involve a big party, a last meal (of rolled tacos), gifts that I registered for, and a tearful farewell. And of course all this couldn’t happen until I’d done a lot of research.
So I’d gotten as far as the research part, trying out recipes that didn’t include meat. Found some fantastic meals, and new comfort foods. And the other day as I was walking home from the grocery store I realized something. I ate meat when I went out with my friends, but I’d stopped buying it for myself at home.
I’d done it, I’d become a vegetarian months ahead of schedule, without really realizing it.
But I wasn’t sure it would stick, health-wise. What if I didn’t feel right a month in? So I figured I’d just keep it to myself until I was certain I’d worked all the kinks out.
I forgot how social a thing food is.
It came up to ……….. like, EVERYONE at work who wanted to bring me lunch, or split a sandwich, or who didn’t even ask and simply brought me one. It came up when Bethany was talking about cooking dinner, or when Jesse wanted me to try his soup.
And if the waiter at my favorite restaurant knows, then I suppose it’s past time to just mention it to the Internet.
Plus it’s a wonderful excuse for all the weight I’ve lost lately.
