Acclimation

"I think it's pretty much agreed that it goes: Open minded: Good. Judgmental: Bad. But are we being too quick to judge judgment?"

-- Carrie Bradshaw

Okay, here's the thing: Along with all the fun discoveries and recipes; the feeling of healthfulness; the pleasure and confidence that come with making a life change that I know is right for me; my longtime disclaimers to dining companions that I don't have a problem being in the presence of meat eaters, so please, order what you want; the reassurances in this blog that I ate meat for 35 years and dairy for 12 more, so who am I to judge? . . . I still judge.

People say, "I could never be a vegan -- I love cheese too much." And I think, "Of course you could. If I can, you can." Even though I also thought I could never be vegan as recently as a few months ago.

At lunch, a colleague tells a story of being on vacation in Greece and having the most fabulous, fresh-caught seafood at a little island restaurant and then noticing some dead octopuses hanging from a hook nearby. She says to us, her lunch companions (of whom I'm the only vegetarian), "And I was like, I know where this comes from, but do we have to look at that while we're eating?" Ha ha ha.

And I'm like, well, no -- clearly you don't have to look in most places you eat. You'd never want to eat fish or meat again if you had to confront daily where they came from and the horrors these creatures went through to get to your plate.

But I don't say that.

Everyone else in my family eats meat. Do I wish they wouldn't? Yes. But I'm a recent convert, and everyone knows there's no one more passionate than a convert. I wish everyone would come to Jesus! (Especially anyone who just ended up here by Googling "come to Jesus" and "convert." Here, have some tofu "chicken" salad.)

I live in a house at least partially made of glass -- refusing an office cupcake one day, then grabbing a handful of Hershey Kisses out of a bowl on someone's desk when everybody's gone. (Hey, she bought them, not me.) Then I go home and make a batch of vegan chocolate thumbprint cookies and think, why do we even need to eat dairy, these are so good?

What I know is this: It is possible to like, respect, love someone whose choices you disagree with. I never could understand it -- and frankly detested it -- when I heard people say things like "I love my gay friend, but I disapprove of his lifestyle." Or "I think abortion is murder, but I still like you even though you had one." Now, as much as I hate to admit it, I'm starting to understand that a little.

And that may be the hardest thing of all to get used to.