The Potluckatarian

When you make a decision to change your lifestyle in order to have a positive impact on your health like I did, there are bound to be some situations in which you are forced to make some difficult decisions. I have written before about the changes I have made in order to be a more active, healthy person. One of those decisions is the choice to avoid meat and dairy products. I have said before that I am not a vegan or vegetarian, because I want to have choices. If you are a self-proclaimed vegan, vegetarian, pescetarian, glutenarian, or whatever you are, whether by choice or by force, you understand as well as I do, there are some sacrifices that come along with living a lifestyle void of cheeses (oh how I love cheeses) and meat. It can be challenging to take a vacation in the U.P., for instance, where, at times, the only vegan option on the menu consists of ketchup and saltine crackers. This is where I draw the line at whether or not I’m going to give in and just have the dang pasty, meat and all. Nowhere on earth is it more difficult to be a something-arian than at a church potluck. If you are the member of a church like I am, we gather together around food, usually potluck style, frequently. And it’s not just food. It’s really good food. I have been a potluck attendee my entire life because I have gone to church my entire life. When I have that Chinette plate in my hand and I’m shuffling along the potluck line, faced with the likes of tuna macaroni salad, taco salad, cheesy potatoes, and ground beef chili, I’m weak. Very weak. I scoop the turkey and dressing casserole on to that sturdy eco-friendly plate convincing myself that I’ll just “eat around” the turkey, but knowing full well that it’s not going to happen. I feel like a failure to all that’s good and vegan. “But God put those animals on this earth for us to enjoy!” they say. Tell that to my intestines that struggle to digest it. I try to be strong, but when I’m staring down a crockpot full of homemade macaroni and cheese the spoon beckons and I obey. As I cleaned my plate at the most recent potluck luncheon, I promised myself a meat and cheese detox starting at 1:00 pm. So maybe I’m a potluckatarian. Care to join me? I’ll be sitting in front of an empty oval Chinette plate, looking guilty, and full.