I went vegan for a month at Ohio Northern University.
The best way to describe this experience is through the five stages of grief (denial, anger, bargaining, depression, and acceptance). This article concerns the second stage, anger.
I’m certainly not an angry person by nature, but anger is often the byproduct of so many other complex emotions working all at once.
Throughout my vegan experience, I realized that our relationship with food is highly emotional. That might sound crazy, but consider your favorite comfort foods. What makes them so comforting? Consider celebratory ice cream after winning games or awards. Consider therapeutic ice cream after a really bad day. Consider the encouragement of C-store ice cream at 3am as you pull an all-nighter cramming for an exam.
Okay, maybe I just really like ice cream, but the point is that food is present throughout so many of our core life experiences. This is why we create such deep emotional bonds with food.
Veganism shakes up these emotional bonds.
One time, my friends and I went to Cooper’s, a local ice cream and pizza place, after our annual Student Senate banquet. It had been a long day and an even longer year of Student Senate. Like soldiers returning from war, the six of us exhaustedly marched through the door and excitedly examined the available ice cream flavors.
As a vegan, I knew that I couldn’t eat any of it. Ice cream is obviously made from dairy. However, I thought it was important that I went anyway to experience a food-centered moment without, well, the food. I thought surely that Cooper’s would have something vegan on their menu. Like literally, anything at all. But despite the riveting option of a dry vegan salad consisting solely of lettuce and carrots, my only other choice was an ice water.
There I was, drinking my ice water as my friends enjoyed their delicious-looking ice cream bowls. I don’t blame them. Just a few days ago I, too, was eating ice cream without a care in the world. However, it did become apparent to me that putting your beliefs into action isn’t easy. It can be uncomfortable and often prompt emotions of frustration, sadness, hopelessness, jealousy, and – you guessed it – anger.
These are ugly emotions, no doubt. I think a lot of us experience these emotions more than we’d like to admit. While they may get a bad rap, I’ve found that these emotions are also signs of character growth through a tough challenge.
I wasn’t a perfect person during my veganism journey. If you knew me personally throughout that time, I probably owe you an apology (and some ice cream).
There is one moment, certainly not my proudest, that stands out in particular. One day, my roommate was buttering a bagel at lunch, and everyone at our table was chatting casually. My roommate happened to mention how good buttered bagels are and how excited she was to eat this one.
Something snapped within me. At this point in time, I had not consumed butter in over a week. I was having what I can only imagine to be drug-like withdrawals. I craved butter so badly. I was legitimately day dreaming about butter. Butter and cheese were by far the food items that I missed the most.
After her innocent comment, I went on a passionate and fiery rant about how the production of butter from cow’s milk is a morally horrendous process that subjects cows to incredibly inhumane and disgusting treatment. While this is true, it definitely killed the vibe at lunch. Even if I was jealous and angry that I couldn’t have butter, I shouldn’t have acted on those emotions.
Trying something new is always tough. Veganism challenged me in so many ways. And yes, at times I felt angry. Just imagine walking into your favorite restaurant, but they’re out of almost every good item on the menu. Now imagine that for 28 days straight.
I knew I was doing the right thing. There are so many strong moral arguments in favor of veganism. But why was it so hard?
I mulled over this question until somewhere within those 28 days of February, my perspective changed completely.
My anger, and the web of emotions in which it was entangled, subsided. I began to realize that the emotions I so deeply attached to food weren’t about food at all. Sure, food tastes good and provides us with a biological feeling of security. But ultimately, food’s emotion comes from the people you share it with and the cherished memories that you surround it with.
After this realization, veganism became a mind-over-matter situation for me. Even though I couldn’t eat the same foods as my friends, and worst of all, I couldn’t eat butter, I still found joy.
Joy doesn’t come from your food or any worldly possession. Joy comes from within. Joy comes from doing what you know to be right even when it requires you to change.
In fact, joy in the face of adversity may be the truest form of happiness that has ever existed.
I thought veganism would only be a temporary shift in my diet to accommodate some newfound beliefs that I discovered in my Environmental Ethics class. As it turns out, it actually changed my perspective of life forever. The anger stage of my veganism journey was not easy, but I wouldn’t trade the lessons I learned for anything. I started to find my vegan groove after about a week, it seemed like maybe things weren’t so bad after all. Or maybe this was just the bargaining stage knocking on my door.
Tune in to my next article to continue my veganism journey and hear about the third stage: bargaining.
If you want to watch my ethical epiphanies in real time, follow @sunnygoesvegan on Instagram. It won’t disappoint.