I want to tell you the story of this kid. Since he was 8 years old, he got used to fishing. Then, at about 12, he was given a harpoon and he started to spearfish. He was pretty good… among his family and friends he was one of the best, considering his young age. He caught fishes and octopuses in deep water, killed them right on the beach, cleaned them and gave them to his mom for cooking dinner. He was able to use the fishing pole, the water rifle and also the net to catch smaller fishes.
Somebody could argue that it’s a bad behavior for a such young boy, but every kid was eating animals and surely killing them with his own hands was less hypocrite than finding them right on the plate, without knowing how they got there (or even that they were animals in the first place). If it’s natural to eat animals, the process of killing them shouldn’t be hidden or made by somebody else.
Still, I’d like to punch that kid right in the face.
For his inability to feel empathy.
For valuing his ego more than an animal’s life.
For the feeling of victory whenever he was able to kill.
But mostly because that kid was me.
Now, every time somebody tell me that he could never give up eating meat, I really find it difficult to understand. I grown up knowing about the pain that my diet was causing, feeling completely fine with that, and yet I was able to realize that it had to change.
I was enjoying fishing. And yet I gave up everything: no more animals on my plate, no more fishing.
So, if I could do that, everybody can. And if you think that eating animals is not that bad compared to fishing them, I’d like to remind you that pain is still there and that, nowadays, both activities are made just for fun.