Okay so vegan-ism is something I have attempted and failed at several times. The general pattern is that I stick to a fairly disciplined regime of no animal products for a week or fortnight, and then a cube of cheese creeps in, the slathering of mayonnaise in my sandwich, oh what the heck there’s barely butter in a croissant anyway right? And then I tumble back into a pit of stuffing my face with chocolates, cream and stuffed omelettes. Food, glorious food!

But the past few months I’ve come to resent myself. After devouring half a loaf of moist banana cake, it swims in my tummy with gastric juices and horrible guilt. I mean how heartless was I to do this despite having those visuals of calves’ mouths clamped shut with muzzles and tubs of baby chicks shoved into a grinder, ingrained in my head? Clearly I was getting adept at numbing my conscience.

So I decided to quit this post-guilt routine and make the choice to be strong . What’s that they say about habits, it takes three weeks to build? Or a month? I forget. Anyway, I’m doing this, committing to live the closest thing I can muster to a decent existence.

Yesterday was Day One. Breakfast was a sandwich with olive paste and dairy-free spread. Lunch was spaghetti with sundried tomato sauce and a tad bit of pesto which I know had a teeny bit of parmesan, but hey I’m starting out so I should cut myself some slack. Dinner was guacamole sandwich and a bowl of spinach lentil soup. In between I snuck in a piece of cranberry cookie that my daughter couldn’t finish; again- no self-hate.

So rather than feel crappy about all my lapses, I’m going to feel proud of the things I ate right. And eventually, I’ll get there, maybe even write my own vegan cookbook!

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