Coffee

I don’t know whether it was the version of Sarah McLachlan’s Angel that I listened to last Sunday morning or the fact that I was drinking my last coffee with cream that had me in tears.

Thinking back, I’m going with the cream.

I have never referred to not eating a certain food as ‘giving it up’. If there is something my body asks me to eat, I eat it.

The trick is to make sure I am listening.

When it comes to consuming dairy, my last frontier has been cream in my coffee. For years I have been plugging my ears rather than listening to the whistle screeching in my head every time I take it out of the fridge.

The time came for those earplugs to come out.

Over the past few months I have forced myself to learn about the dark side of much of the dairy industry. It is not a bedtime story. In fact, what I am learning is giving me nightmares.

I have never been a milk drinker. From the time I was old enough to push back, I did. For this I am grateful. I see this now as the first example of me listening to my inner voice. So why have I chosen to turn a deaf ear to that generous serving of cream in my coffee every morning?

I don’t like black coffee. Coffee with cream is one of my top ten comfort foods. It would seem that the simple answer is to stop drinking coffee. Really, the simple answer is to stop drinking cream. Yet there is nothing simple about this…and oddly nothing hard either. It just is.

Last Sunday I opened the door to my future of not eating animals, their eggs or their milk. And there is no closing it now.

Welcome to Mixed Green.

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