10 years a vegetarian
Ten years ago this month, in February 2009, I became a full-time vegetarian.
I don’t remember the exact date, but I remember the circumstances surrounding my decision. I met my uncle and his girlfriend for dinner at her favorite Chinese restaurant, Gong’s, a place close to her house that she had been visiting for decades. There was nothing special about Gong’s or its food; it was, as far as I could tell, a tradition of hers and nothing else. (The green tea served with every meal was good, though.) I was a flexitarian at the time, allowing myself to eat meat at social gatherings and shared dinners like we always had at Gong’s. I don’t remember what we ordered that night, but I assume chicken or pork were involved. It was disgusting. Not only was the food particularly bad that night, it was made worse by the guilt I felt for allowing myself to eat meat.
That guilt and disgust overwhelmed my conscience after dinner. I stood in the street for a moment after parking near my apartment, bad Chinese food on my breath, and thought, “That’s it. That’s the last time I’m eating meat.”
Though I’ve accidentally had it a few times, usually at potlucks or buffets when its presence in a dish is not obvious, I have not eaten meat willingly or knowingly since that night 10 years ago.
Becoming a full-time vegetarian was part of a year-and-a-half process. Though I thought about becoming a vegetarian late in college, it was not until I moved to California and started cooking for myself that I decided to do it. Ethical and environmental reasons are why I continue being a vegetarian (I can’t hurt a stuffed animal so it makes no sense for me to support the slaughtering of real animals), but cutting calories was the initial reason I stopped eating meat. I was making a lot of Zatarain’s rice mixes at the time, adding whole sausage links to the dish. When I tipped the scale at 220 in August 2007, I realized I needed to make a change. Cutting out all those meat calories was an easy choice.
Did it help me lose weight? It did! According to my journals from that time, I lost 33 pounds in four months (which is too much too fast). I did a lot of walking and running back then so becoming a vegetarian wasn’t the only factor, but cutting out meat calories helped a lot.
However, I did not stop eating meat completely at first. Though I stopped buying and cooking it for myself, I ate it when I returned to Iowa for the holidays and at family gatherings. Why? Because I was afraid others would disapprove, afraid of doing something different, afraid of offending a relative because I wouldn’t eat his or her famous Thanksgiving or Christmas dish. But I threw those hesitations—those weaknesses—aside that fateful night after dinner at Gong’s and eliminated meat from my diet.
While many think it would be hard to stop eating meat, almost unthinkable, it was effortless for me. I never liked meat that much and never understood the fascination with it. It was another ingredient to me and nothing more; it was never anything I needed or sought. I liked sausage, especially the landejägers we got in the Amanas and trips to Wisconsin, but nothing else appealed to me. I developed a hatred for pork chops in high school, when my dad made them for dinner almost every night, so I stopped eating those long before I became a vegetarian. (I realized later why we ate pork chops so much back then: Pork was really cheap. The pork market collapsed in the late nineties after production transitioned from small, family-sized operations to industrial-scale confinements. According to this New York Times article from December 1998, pork prices dropped to their lowest level since the Depression.) I did get cravings for landejägers at first, especially when my dad bought a pack and hungrily ate them in front of me, but the meatless landejägers Zee German brought me from Germany cured any hankering for dried sausage.
Though the transition was easy for me, my becoming a vegetarian was not easily accepted by others. I received flak for it. My parents and sister were mostly indifferent, but extended family members and a friend or two questioned my sanity and intelligence. I still get criticized and questioned. Those who have a problem with it are closed-minded and think it’s abnormal. For them, vegetarianism is for dirty, delusional hippies. They’re also fixated on protein. Where do you get your protein? is the question I get most. The answer is simple: everything but meat. (I still eat eggs and dairy products.) Some people are even offended, like my abstinence from meat is a personal criticism and they need to defend themselves, prove me wrong. It’s a testament to the unhelpful us-versus-them mentality on both sides, which I take no part in.
Becoming a vegetarian while I lived in California was a huge advantage. Not only was plant-based protein easy to find in stores, so were vegetarian restaurants. Zee German and his wife introduced me to amazing restaurants that served no meat or animal byproducts. Also, restaurants that served meat always had vegetarian options. It’s not like that in Iowa. While the state’s big metro areas are vegetarian-friendly, a basket of fries may be the only option in smaller communities. (You don’t realize how ubiquitous meat is until you don’t eat it.) However, it’s easy for me to adjust and go with the flow. I’m committed to it.
My dad often asks me if I will ever eat meat again. I don’t want to and have no reason to, so I doubt I ever will.
