Becoming a vegetarian wasn’t easy — honestly, it felt like trying to climb a mountain made entirely out of broccoli. But here I am, proudly on the veggie side of life.
It all started years ago when I was at Rutherford College doing my Diploma in Visual Arts. One of my classmates was a Harikrishna — lovely lady, very calm, very zen. Meanwhile, I was in the corner traumatised after watching a documentary about what happens to baby chickens. I won’t disclose the details because I’d like you to sleep tonight, but let’s just say I cried. A lot. The kind of crying where you need a cup of tea afterwards to recover your soul.
Fast‑forward through many years of “I should really eat better” and “maybe tomorrow,” I finally went to see a professional health instructor. She gave me excellent advice about vegetarian proteins — apparently you can’t just live on toast and hope for the best. Who knew.
Now, cooking and I… we’re not friends. I can’t be bothered most days. But it looks like the universe (and certain people in my life) are determined to make me eat healthily. Luckily, I have my trusty air fryer — my kitchen soulmate. If it can’t be air‑fried, I don’t want it.
So yes, becoming a vegetarian took ages. It involved tears, documentaries, professional advice, and a deep emotional bond with an appliance. But I’m glad I made the decision. It feels good. It feels right. And it feels delicious… as long as the air fryer is involved.
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