I Quit Eating Meat 38 Years Ago — Here’s How I Did It
Even in the face of family scrutiny…
I still remember the last time I ate red meat. It was in 1982 — 38 years ago. I had come home late one night, feeling hungry and tired. My mom had left out food in a covered cast-iron skillet. She would often leave enough leftovers out for my siblings and me — whoever managed to get home first. That night, I was lucky and got first dibs — so I thought.
I lifted the lid to see a medium-well done T-bone steak smothered in onions and gravy, and a side of white rice. Dang! Why steak and gravy? There I was having a moment of internal conflict — should I eat this steak or not?.
It had only been a few weeks since I’d stopped eating meat. I was making progress up until this point. Yet, I was at the kitchen table devouring a steak — destroying what little discipline I had.
That night, my body revolted and rejected the foreign beef invader. I fought off bad dreams, excruciating stomach pains, and night sweats. I was guilty of once again eating meat — the cows were coming home to moo! The next day I promised myself that I would never eat red meat again — I’ve kept that promise.
In the early 80s, a meatless diet wasn’t common practice in my community, unless you went against social norms and followed the…
