When I told my parents I was going vegetarian in my last year of high school, they thought I was crazy. No one had ever been a vegetarian in my family. In fact, my parents had never even known a vegetarian.
Needless to say, they didn’t quite take me seriously initially. With my mom being the chef of the household, despite my continued veggie persistence, I’d often appallingly discover a piece of meat or chicken in my food, which brought a very speedy end to mealtimes for me.
“You need the protein!” my mom would say.
“It’s just one little piece.”
“I thought I separated it all out.”
I eventually boycotted almost everything she made. Now, I feel some guilt over causing her any stress. It wasn't her responsibility to become a short-order cook and cater to each of our food whims.
But because of my persistence, she eventually realized that I was serious about vegetarianism and gave up trying to “trick me.”
Now, I have been a vegetarian for over 20 years, and I’ve learned a few things along the way.
