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I decided to stop eating meat at the age of eight. When I was younger, I was obsessed with chicken and rice. Then, around seven, my palate changed, and I realized that I didn't care for the texture of any type of meat. So, I quit. Cold turkey. Surprisingly, my parents were supportive of me. I say surprisingly because I come from a family whose main meals consist of meat on meat. My mother is from Latin America, my father a mixture of Irish and Black. A typical dinner in our household was meat and potatoes, carne con fill in the blank. My mother, bless her heart, always took the time and effort to prepare meals for me that would give me the sustenance that I needed and keep me happy. Back then, there weren't meat alternatives, so I filled myself up on veggies and beans, and rice.
In high school, I became friends with other "veggies". Our school cafeteria wasn't as kind as home. The choices that I had were salads and french fries and pizza. While others dined on fries and tater tots, I started bringing lunches to school. I remember eating outside on the lawn, sometimes with chopsticks and veggie sushi, letting the sun shine on my face as I enjoyed my treats.
I was a tiny girl,..barely five foot, barely 100 pounds. The things that weighed the most on me were my hair and the giant platforms that I used to wear. In university, I kept these habits of bringing inventive meals to the quad. Again, I'd find some green-space to picnic at, sitting with my guitar, and just enjoying life.
It wasn't until I was about twenty three that my body started rebelling. I had gained thirty pounds in a month. My diet hadn't changed nor had my exercise levels. My hips and breasts and stomach were a different story. I went to a doctor. He told me that I had a growth spurt. I told him I was crazy. At twenty three you don't have growth spurts. A month later, I found myself sixty pounds heavier than my original weight, baffled by my appearance, and depressed that nothing I did was helping me lose the weight that I was gaining.
Everyone started questioning me. Was I pregnant? Was I eating meat? Was I sneaking to fast food chains mid-class? The answer to all of these were no. No one believed me. They thought I was a liar and a food-obsessed woman. To them, it could not be possible to be a fat vegetarian. I tried in vain to "fix" myself. I saw nutritionists, started running, but nothing work. Later that year, I got married to a guy that I'd thought I'd spend my whole life with. I felt ashamed and embarrassed when he introduced me to his family. I remember sitting at the dinner table, him telling them that I didn't eat meat. It seemed like the world had stopped. Forks, knives, spoons were mid-air and mouths agape in wonderment as to how this chubby little Blaxican girl could possibly be vegetarian. I remember someone asked me directly, as if my then husband had told them some tall tale. I answered sheepishly, then asked to be excused.
We moved across the globe together. I thought for sure, my issues with my vegetarianism and the fact that I didn't fit some social norm would not hold me back. I was wrong. I learned quickly what the words for "fat", "really", and "no way" were in two other languages. As I began making friends, some of them veggies as well, I began to recognize the looks of disbelief and sympathy when I'd tell my friends about my eating habits. Despite my being vegetarian for over twenty years, many times my advice on vegetarian cooking and living green have been disputed simply because of my size. How could I possibly be an expert on a subject when I physically represent everything that negates what I stand for. In simple terms, there is no such thing as a fat vegetarian. They are like unicorns or Santa Claus. They simply don't exist. Case closed.
Thirteen years after my first "growth spurt" and marriage, I found myself alone and unrecognizable to myself. Looking in the mirror every morning has become a cruel game. In my mind, I'm still the tiny girl with the guitar in hand and the vegetarian sushi in tow. In reality, I'm double that and have a permanent look of frustration across my face. I'm learning to be comfortable in my own skin, owning my greatness, and not worrying about how others perceive me. This, of course, is a daily struggle.
In recent times, I met a wonderful soul whos intellect and personality is magnetizing. I've never been the type of woman to attempt to convert a man's lifestyle habits. I have always hoped for a mutual respect and understanding regarding my choices as well as the prerequisite that my friends and paramours get that I am more than my weight and I am more than a vegetarian. "Guy" (we'll call him) was supportive when I told him I wanted to train for a race (which, I admit, I haven't done so much for) as well as juice fast for detox purposes and also as a means of transitioning to raw veganism. During the summer, I found myself energized, revitalized, and motivated to start my latest life chapter. A month into juicing, I knew that I needed whole foods. "Guy" kept up with the juice fast, then slowly converted to salads and veggies. In three month's time, he'd lost forty pounds. I only lost ten.
Again, I was perplexed. I had been doing everything right. Weight loss was not the intentional goal, but as I saw the numbers on his scale dwindle, it gave me hope. I felt cheated out of a system yet again. How could it be that someone who makes a conscious effort to eat clean still horde extra weight? So, I sit here, attempting to devise a new gameplan. Through "Guy's" friendship and determination, I've found the motivation to find the answers to the question I've been asking myself for almost a decade. How can a fat vegetarian exist?
Since the surge in clean eating and vegetarianism globally, I know that nutritionists and doctors may have better answers for me now than just a "growth spurt". My plan is to track daily, make sure that my carb intake is not too high,, make sure that I'm getting enough protein and iron, and in a month's time make an appointment with my GP.
It pains me to say that I have been shamed for not fitting the prototype of young vegetarian woman. It does not shame me to keep trying to be the fittest and best me that I can be.
