Like, to eat cheese, or not to eat cheese?
I F*cking love cheese. I always have. I always told myself (and anyone who would listen) that I could never be a vegan because I love cheese too much. Also, I happened to think most vegans were just super whiny and obnoxious and seeking attention because they weren't the recipients of attachment style parenting, or their parents couldn't make it to their school play, or they just needed life to give them a big pat on the back and say, "Good job, you've made it. Even if you don't have the rest of your shit together, you at least eat healthy, look like a Pilates instructor, and smear it in other people's faces to inspire them to be like you." Did I go too far? Maybe. But even if I don't mean that fully, I can guarantee there are people who absolutely do. So, where was I going with this? Ah, yes, obnoxious veganism and why I am being dragged against my will and stubborn egotistical taste buds to the non-cheesy side of life.
Why? Health. I have apparently learned some new things, and that is miraculously manifesting itself into some form of action. Not an action I had ever planned on, but certain circumstances have come together in a fashion that has lead me to believe that going vegan is, indeed, the right course of action.
In short, there is ill health in two of my very close family members. Two members who I realized I actually have the capacity to help. So instead of taking the even more obnoxious (if that's possible) and sanctimonious approach and telling them how and what to eat while I eat cheese and donuts on the side, I told them that I would support them along the way to recovery by changing the way our whole family eats. Yes, I pledged my moral support by climbing right into the same vegan boat with them.
"We're in it together" I said.
"I'll be eating the same thing as you" I said.
"You won't feel deprived or left out" I said.
"We will suffer together" I thought.
But then I realized, as with all things in life, that it's all a choice. I had to choose to be positive about going vegan so that I could actually do it, and actually make the healthy choices that will lead our family in the direction of vibrant health.
I did something shortly after that which I literally had pledged NEVER to do.
I ate cilantro. On purpose.
My husband was even shocked, and a little wary. Suddenly, and out of the blue, the woman who he had to bribe with $20 just to eat one leaf of cilantro (and even then I swallowed it without chewing) was cutting it fresh out of the garden and putting it into the family meals. I figured if I could change my mind about cilantro, I could change my mind about any food. I mean really, it boiled down to it being 90% in my head. I was surprised at how easy it was, and to be completely honest I felt kind of dumb for always making such a big deal about not eating it. I had avoided it like the plague, proclaimed loudly that it tasted like stink bugs or soap, and may have offended a few hosts by picking it out of food (discreetly I hoped). If food is our medicine, as I have learned, then I had better start eating it. I already had been bombarded with the prodigious qualities of cilantro, and figured that if I was going to eat my arch nemesis I should use the stomach acid to drown my ego too.
To be continued. I am at the beck and call of two small humans now, and they are calling.
"Mommy, you keep doing what you want to do and not what we want to do"
Grandpa in the background says,"Mommy has a life"
5 Year old, "Mommy doesn't have a life!" (Ain't that the truth) "It's time to make cookies* and you'll never ever get on the computer again."
*yes, we are making cookies, BUT we are giving all but two each to the neighbors in the spirit of the holidays, so don't think I'm too big of a hypocrite.
