First step to becoming a vegetarian: DO NOT PANIC. You will not starve.

Quitting meat cold turkey (ha-ha, I laugh but I never understood that phrase) was one word: weird. One day I'm living my life on top of the food chain as a carnivore, the next I'm eating plants. I remember my first meal after my transformation - I stood in front of my refrigerator for about 10 minutes (the timer thing to help you not eat the whole fridge kept beeping and it even turned the lights out on me, so rude) trying to think of something to eat - no such luck. Then I checked the freezer then the cabinets and pantry. All of a sudden I was freaking out because that annoying little voice in the back of my head (mine sounds like a 3-year-old sucking helium - yeah that bad - her name is Sophie) was telling me I was going to die of starvation.
Well, clearly the toddler who inhabits my brain was thinking irrationally. Because about 15 seconds after my mini panic attack I regained control of my brain from Sophie and realized my options were limitless.
Meat does NOT make the meal. Let me repeat this, meat does NOT NOT NOT make the meal. And it never should but that's how we Americans were raised  and look at all the good it's doing us - we're the fattest country on the planet! Go us! Maybe if we didn't go around eating food called "the double-down" or "the big-n-tasty," our average waist sizes would be slightly smaller. Maybe if people fed their kids more veggies instead of taking them to McDonald's three times a week or plopping them in front of the TV with a plate of dinosaur shaped chicken nuggets (and wait, why are they shaped like dinosaurs anyway? They should be shaped like chickens - maybe kids would be weirded out and not eat 'em), then we wouldn't have 350 pound 4-year-olds. End rant about American obesity. 

Anyways I realized as I progressed on my newly found vegetarian journey that there are so many different options when you remove the meat from a meal. There are meatless "meat" options from Morning Star and Boca. There really is more vegetables then meat options and vegetables aren't cute and fluffy so it's a win-win.
After about a week, I was not starving myself - I was actually able to eat more than before because I didn't have the heaviness or calories of meat in my body. I felt lighter and healthier and I honestly felt like a different person. I felt like who I should have always been.  I wanted to hug a tree but most of all I wanted to hug my sister because without her I would have never taken the next step to the rest of my life.






**On a smaller side note that I can't help but mentioning: today at the Cafeteria at school they were serving "london broil." They were cooking it on the huge grill they have and all you could see was red stuck to it. I'm assuming it was blood, it could have been barbeque sauce but it looked like blood. I originally traveled over that way because I saw they had tater tots and I love those, yum. But then the feeling I experienced in my tummy was so not yum, nausea can't even begin to describe it. All I could think about was those poor little cows just burning there on the grill. It may sound crazy but I was half tempted to jump on over there and rescue burning Bessie. But that would be irrational. So I pictured it happening, smiled to myself, closed my eyes and half-blindedly got my tots (which btw, weren't that good).

Last May I returned home after a year of living wildly in the mountains, a.k.a college in rural Pennsylvania, to find that my 16-year-old flower child sister was a hardcore, full fledge, tree hugging vegetarian. For my first dinner back, I laughed as I chowed down on a juicy steak and she happily consumed a veggie burger. I didn't understand why she was a vegetarian, I often made jokes about her decision and didn't listen when she talked about vegetarian related topics.
After three weeks at home with my wild haired, free spirited vegetarian sister (Angel is her name by the way, but don't let it fool you, seriously don't), the wheels in my brain began turning. The facts she recited like a BINGO proctor were finally starting sinking in. When my mom made cheeseburgers for dinner I could hear the meat moo-ing "Please don't eat me Krystin." When she whipped up a family favorite- Chicken Parmesan- I could literally see feathers in my meal. It was really starting to freak a girl out.
But my official "turning point" was mid-June when in a frantic hurry to find a shirt to wear I stumbled into my sister's bedroom (which, let me tell you, is twice the size of mine and she has a walk-in closet-my parents don't play favorites at all), and instead of finding a shirt I found a PETA pamphlet -play haunted house soundtrack here- I know, the HORROR! My stomach was telling me not to open it but the baby pigs on the cover were just too cute to resist. Well, let's just say I was immediately turned. I'll spare you the gruesome details that'll make ya loose your lunch but I read every horrifying word of that pamphlet and gaped at every picture. I stood there in my sister's room, half-clothed, mouth wide open, late for my date, questioning every meal I ever ate.
As I neared the end of the pamphlet and my feelings of self-loathing reached a record high, I noticed a picture of a baby pig and read the caption underneath. To put it nicely, the caption said something like "This little piggy did not go to the market, he did not go home, he got sick, threw up and died in it and then he was served to you and your family on Easter." Yum.
And that's when the water works came. I don't think I cried that much since I realized that no member of N'Sync, the Backstreet Boys or even 98 degrees (you remember them, don't lie) was going to ask for my hand in marriage, ever. Yeah i know, it was that crush-your-dreams, life-as-you-know-it-is-now-over bad.
After about 15 minutes of crying over Mr.Piggy and his farm friends, I prayed to God and all baby animals everywhere that I would never eat meat or anything made with meat by-products ever again.