I had only been a member a few months, but was reticent to share my new beliefs with my parents when I met them for vacation. But there was no way to hide it. Though I still felt I was the same inside, there was something new as well. I was almost exuberant about feeling my actions had a higher meaning, and though I knew they wouldn’t approve, part of me believed my family would at least honor the sacrifices I was making. Besides the spiritual high I was experiencing, there were obvious outward practices they couldn’t help but notice, especially at dinnertime.
Though they neither approved nor found anything honorable about my new ways, I found personal joy and fulfillment in my practices. There were moments it was hard, but the feeling of purpose I had compensated for any deprivation. And because nearly every meal and social engagement had me behaving differently than the mainstream, it was easy for me to spot and connect with others who were like-minded. I loved that instant feeling of “knowing” someone, the sense of community experienced based simply on belonging to the same group.
Leaving, on the other hand, was much more difficult than joining. Ten years after idealism and passion were replaced with a mortgage, children and “to-do list”, I wasn’t quite the same person. It was a slow progression, starting with the inconvenience of always having to explain myself, why I did one thing but wouldn’t do others, how I wasn’t trying to use my own ideals to judge others. As my world expanded, what was once a way to connect to a larger community began to make me feel isolated from those near me.
And as I read more, I learned that some of the facts and history that had once enticed me were not so cut and dry. Shades of gray began to blur my black and white lines and standards.
Finally, I came to accept that a practice that had at one time fulfilled and enthused me, now hung from me like an albatross. It was a burden, not a joy, and it was time to let go.
I started small, trying things I had enjoyed before. New problems emerged – I once had a set of definitive guidelines to help me measure whether I was a living a life that aligned with my values, but once I left that I was almost floundering at sea. I knew I still held the ideals, but I had to take care in developing my own practices around those. And though I felt a sense of community among those who still practiced, they would not appreciate my identifying as part of the group since my lifestyle was clearly not within their constrictions. It seems disingenuous and makes light of the sacrifices they are still making.
Now, several years after leaving, I see this phase of life coming full circle as my own daughter joins the ranks of the vegetarians.
;
;
I laughed, I cried, I bought some tofu.
Ha! You remind me of how many more options there are for vegetarians now than when I was a “member.” Tofu was really the “it” protein at the time, one I could never really get excited about.
Congratulations to you and your daughter upon joining the ranks of the vegetarians.
My 12 year old has decided to spend a month as a vegetarian… I am alternately intrigued by her interest and willpower and annoyed at the inconvenience….
My 18 year says he’s a vegetarian, but he’s really more like a pastafarian–the dude lives on carbs. But he’s accepting of his non-vegetarian father (although nowadays I’m more of a fish, pasta and vegetables guy, so I’m moving closer).
Ed, whenever we meet, I will have to introduce you to Quorn. ;) And Norwegian salmon is still standing in the way of my becoming a real, full-fledged vegetarian. I blame my husband for introducing me to it. :)