A year ago at around Valentine's Day I decided to give up meat. There was no epiphany. No ASPCA/PETA moment of aha love of animals. No growing of the armhairs, not showering stuff. It unfolded in a slow deterioration of "this is too hard".
If you have to point to an "aha" moment it was 7th grade science class. We dissected chicken breasts. Out of a container. From the same grocery where my mom bought her chicken breasts. The light bulb went off as to what I was actually eating because I had to pull out and anatomically label every last bit of my "food". I ate very little chicken after that. Ever. And that's what it boils down to when all is said and done. If I eat food and it reminds me where it came from I can't eat it anymore. If you haven't figured it out yet, I'm cerebral.
Back to Valentine's Day 2014. I decided maybe I'd like meat more if I ate the "good stuff". I went to Whole Foods. Bought a grass-fed, organic, blah, blah, blah roast. Feeling proud of myself, I took it home and crock pot'd that sucker. It smelled wonderful. I took it out after the allotted time. It was full of stuff I had to cut out b/c it reminded me of where it came from...and it was the toughest roast I ever tried to eat. I choked down a dinner's worth, but by the end was having trouble even swallowing it thinking about what I'd cut out. Most of the expensive, "good stuff" roast ended up in the garbage. I lamented to my mother how hard it was to force myself to eat meat. Me - "It's not like I can eat beans and rice for the rest of my life!" Mom - "why not? Lots of people do."
*cue the heavenly aha moment music*
So, I decided to ride the beans and rice wave where it took me. Here I am, almost 1 year later. Sure I had some corned beef on St. Patty's Day and what would a baseball game be without a hot dog. And sometimes, well, a veggie burger just isn't gonna cut it. I'd say the meat days over the last year total between 5-10. I eat a lot of the same things at home and love when restaurants offer veggie options that go beyond pasta and salad. I could spend EONS talking about foods I don't eat and why (some of them to my sister's anti-bodily function talk chagrin), but this one bears some repeating.
And, repeating. And repeating. I became that person. I've said the phrase "I don't eat meat" more times then even I'm comfortable with. When you are almost 40 and *voila* give up meat, it takes a bit of explaining - to friends, family (no, Mom and Dad, the Turkey Burger isn't a no-meat option) and to my high school kids who can't fathom a life with no McDonald's. I refrain from "Vegetarian" because I have no moral objection to meat and will eat it if I must. I just mostly don't. It's harder, I think, for people to grasp that I just don't like it. They'd rather I had a moral objection. Maybe that's my almost 40 year old epiphany. I'm just gonna stop doing things I don't like, if I can. Bring on the beans and rice!
No comments:
Post a Comment