During the mid to late 80s, I was attending the University of North Texas trying to mend a broken heart and find myself. Despite the challenges I was facing, I managed to have a grand time with a terrific group of friends, spending most of my time studying, meeting people, trying new things, and looking for answers.

Among my many new experiences was Earth Day 1988. Since I had slowly become more and more aware of environmental and human rights issues, I found myself craving information about ways I could improve life on earth. It was at a local Earth Day celebration that I found exactly what I needed.

As my friends and I walked through the fair grounds, I felt a real sense of belonging. Something about the entire scene sat right with me. Maybe it was the music, the people, and the earthy styles. Who knows? It just felt right. Early in the day, I spied an attractive young man with a neo-hippie appearance standing behind one of the more non-descript tables. I don't even recall the organization he was with, but I do remember his face. In all honesty, I approached his table because I wanted to flirt with him.

He greeted me and said, "Would you mind taking the time to read this?" It was a packet of about 10 typed pages. As I read it, I learned how much food is given to cattle instead people. I read how many antibiotics are given to cattle. I read about the amount of land required to raise cattle compared to crops. I read about world hunger, water contamination, wasted resources, cruelty, and disease. It was the list of statistics from John Robbins' Diet for a New America (1987, HJ Kramer).

I was stunned. I couldn't believe how well all the pieces fit together. It became apparent to me that, armed with this knowledge, to continue eating meat and supporting these destructive industries was not only selfish and irresponsible, it was immoral. As a caring human being who every night asked for the hungry to be fed, the ill to be healed, the homeless to find shelter, and the conflicted to find resolution, I had to do the right thing and become a vegetarian.

That was it. At that moment, I gave up meat. I didn't know what the hell I was doing. I just knew I had to do it. Initially, I got rid of all the flesh foods. Later, I learned about gelatin, rennet, and other ingredients that required the death of a creature. I often think of my conversion to vegetarianism as "love at first sight." I knew instantly that I had to incorporate the philosophy in my life, learn more about it, and tell others. That's exactly what I did. To this day, I am still learning.

I slipped once after that and had one piece of sausage pizza. It made me sick to my stomach. Otherwise, most of my stumbling was in the kitchen trying new foods and figuring out how to cook new things. I was not alone, however. There was a quirky little place in Denton called "Jim's Diner" that had a few vegetarian items on the menu. I remember when they first began serving falafel. The running joke was "Oh…I just falafel" (feel awful). I had to try this exotic new dish. At the time, I don't think any of us really knew how to cook it. My first experience with falafel was a bunch of fried, crumbled grains on a burger bun. We put honey Dijon dressing on it and ate it with a fork. The grains fell off the fork and we doused it with more dressing and ate it with a spoon. It wasn't until I went to a Greek restaurant that I realized how it was supposed to look.

The first time I tried to make hummus was also memorable. I didn't have a recipe, but a friend had told me what was in it. I remember my roommate's mother coming over for his graduation as I was sitting in the kitchen using a fork to smash chickpeas. I had no idea I could stick them in a blender! Needless to say, it was a failed attempt. I ended up throwing the whole thing in the trash. Everything was trial and error in the beginning, but one thing I didn't mess up on was consuming meat.

I remember calling my father and telling him about my decision to be vegetarian. This moment felt much like when I called him to announce my engagement. I had the same excited nervousness and commitment to it. Dad wasn't impressed. He said he looked forward to the day I grew out of "this phase." I was upset and disappointed by the comment. I remember telling him, "Dad, I have found something that feels so right to me. It's something I am sticking with and it's no fad. I wish you could be happy for me that I've found something I truly believe in."

"We'll see, Lucy."

Here it is, over a decade later and I feel as passionately about ethical consumption, vegetarianism, animal cruelty, and the environment as ever. Occasionally, I enjoy reminding my father of the day I told him I had become a vegetarian and pointing out that I now write on the subject, am part of the community, and am rearing his grandchildren vegetarian. He just smiles. I wonder if he still thinks I'll grow out of this "phase."

--Lucy Watkins is the interview and activism editor for both Vegetarian Baby and Child Magazine and vegetarianteen.com.