Vegetarian
By Rev. Judith Thomas
I am about to tell you a story that, when it happened, was not funny in any way. But now telling it I can’t help but laugh at the seriousness with which I took myself. So, all that is to say, don’t feel bad if you laugh, because I do too…
Our food arrived. Mine was just a bowl of vegetable soup and a side salad. There weren’t any other vegetarian options at this restaurant but I was content and people don’t come here for the food anyway…they come here for the pie. And I was looking forward to that. It was my sophomore year of college and I was out to eat as part of my scholarship program. We were hosting a church leader who was giving a speech at the college. Three other students, our chaplain, and the guest were with me.
We prayed and I took a bite of my soup and immediately knew I had made a mistake. I felt and tasted the beef chunks in my vegetable soup. My stomach felt like it fell out of me…dread can strike quickly. I had just eaten meat. Tears filled my eyes suddenly and I got up quickly, trying not to make a scene but also not able to control what was happening to my eyes and my entire quaking body and I fled to the bathroom.
Nicole and Mary, the two older scholarship students, joined me not too long after, which only added to my embarrassment. But they were kind and encouraging and acted like they understood even if they didn’t. In some ways I didn’t. I felt so stupid and yet it felt so real. I shared through tears and sobs how there had been meat in the soup and that it had been the first time since becoming a vegetarian 7 months ago and that now I was back to day one. Nicole, who had dabbled in vegetarianism, told me that it was normal to accidentally eat meat from time to time and it wasn’t my fault and that it didn’t mean I was back at the beginning. I knew all these things, but for some reason my body and emotions weren’t accepting of them.
I gathered myself together and we went back out and finished the meal. Everyone pretended nothing had happened, which I was grateful for, and the pie was indeed a consoling end to the meal.
The truth is I have always had trouble with saying who I am. I often feel like an imposter. Everyone seems a little more real than me. A little more sure about who they are. I ran a marathon last year and still I struggle to say that I am a runner. I started playing guitar 6 ½ years ago and have played for the church several times – but am I a guitar player?
Vegetarianism was particularly hard in this area, because I had to tell people early and quickly and often. I had to claim it. If someone was preparing a meal for me I had to share. And if I was at a buffet with a cheesy potato casserole, I had to ask, is there meat in this? Whether I was a vegetarian for 2 hours or a full year or several years I had to claim it over and over again.
This speaks to the power of food in our lives and communities. One can easily start a hobby in private, learn a new skill, but if we change our diet, it must be communicated to people you eat with and restaurants you visit. Food brings us together over and over again and in a way, it makes our differences more stark.
I was scared I would be seen to be fickle, a fraud, just like so many college students trying on an identity. The thing is I look back on these fears now and think and so what if it was a phase? It is ok to try things out and for it not to become permanent. But that is another story. Another lesson I have since learned.
I became a vegetarian in the fall of 2009. The beginning of my second year of college. I had been wavering on whether to become a vegetarian for a while. I liked the idea of it. From all that I knew it seemed the right thing to do. Yet, it was daunting. Such a big change. And I was afraid.
After several months of indecision, I decided to take a plunge – instead of doing it for any ethical reason I framed it as a matter of self-discipline. This was about making a choice based on a belief over a desire. In some ways after all the back and forth I did it just to prove to myself I could.
It was a strange first year – when does one become a vegetarian? I felt like a fraud telling people and yet in order not to be served food i needed to. And then all the explaining. I didn’t have a strong reason. No statistics to spout out. Just a feeling that it was what I was supposed to do. My dad, who is a supportive person, asked my older sister before I came home for Christmas if me being a vegetarian meant I couldn’t eat pork and beans to which she informed him he was indeed correct I would not be eating pork and beans. I had that awful first-time eating meat and all the other second guesses and feeling unsure about my choice.
I have learned a lot since my first year of being vegetarian. I know now to always ask about meat in vegetable soups, bacon on salads and baked potatoes and various other dishes. I don’t get upset when I accidentally eat meat but appreciate the rare taste. And when a host is unaware of my diet, I enjoy the food set before me. Being a vegetarian is a part of me but not all of me.
I am grateful for the journey. It has been a way for me to do something for the earth every day for 15 years, it has been a way for me to pay more attention to the food I eat and learn to enjoy and choose healthier options, it has been a way for me to practice asking for help and to acknowledge the ways I live interconnectedly with others.