When I was seven, I wanted to be a veterinarian. My oldest brother was a high school rebel at that time, and he came home one day and told me he was a vegetarian.
“That’s what I want to be when I grow up,” I said.
“No no. A vegetarian is a person who doesn’t eat meat,” he explained. “Meat comes from animals.”
“Well, I love animals. I’m a vegetarian too.”
That night I was four bites into a hamburger when my mom said, “Hey Anna, I thought you were a vegetarian now.”
I looked down at my partially eaten meal, realizing for the first time what I’d be giving up. “I’ll start tomorrow,” I declared.