The day I first saw death changed a huge part of my life: my diet.

I was fourteen when I went to visit my grandparents in Marble Falls, about an hour away from Austin. My grandpa is a big hunter – ducks, turkey, pigs, deer. You name it, he kills it. He decided to take me to visit a ranch near his house where hunters can kill animals and then take their “prize” to the slaughterhouse. Seeing how meat is processed would be a good experience for me, right? Wrong.

I’m not sure what I was expecting to see at the slaughterhouse, but what I found completely shocked me. As soon as I got out of the car, I could sense death all around me.

I begged my grandpa not to make me go inside. As the old saying goes, ignorance is bliss, and I would’ve been completely content in my ignorance. Nevertheless, he dragged me inside and insisted that I see for myself.

I shuffled my feet forward one by one, terrified of what I would see inside those doors. As I got closer, I saw the heads of animals sitting in alignment outside the entrance, warning me to turn away. I tried to run, but it was too late.

We entered the slaughterhouse and I was immediately overwhelmed by the stench of raw meat. A large, skinned animal hung from a hook on the ceiling. Blood covered the table where two men stood with knives in hand, slicing layers of raw meat one by one from their lifeless victims. The last thing I thought I would witness during my visit was a slaughter house operated completely by hand. The men waved a filthy hand at me and chuckled at my horrified expression. I could feel the blood drain away from my face in disgust. I was paralyzed by repugnance, repulsion and reality.

My legs shook as my grandpa and I moved on to the next room. He opened the refrigerator to reveal a skinned pig that my cousin had shot. Its pink flesh was highlighted by red and blue veins that had gotten the life sucked out of them. I cringed and closed my eyes, pleading for this Texas Chainsaw Massacre to end.

During the car ride home, I cried and cried as I thought of the animals before they were killed. They had a family and they lived in peace before humans came along and snatched their lives away. I imagined the fear that they felt before they were killed. I was mad at myself for being a part of this sick game of carnivores for so many years.

It was then that I decided to quit eating meat. Sure, I would miss the chicken, but I could do without it. When I announced the news to my friends and family, they laughed. Every single one of them. They told me that the animals would’ve been killed anyway and that they are here for human pleasure. I wasn’t backing down now. I had to prove them wrong.

Once I did some research, I found that there are vegetarian substitutes for just about everything: vegetarian burgers, vegetarian chicken nuggets, and even vegetarian ribs (heavy in soy and vegetables opposed to meat). Becoming a vegetarian didn’t feel like as large of a transition in my life as it was- to my surprise, I actually craved these new vegetarian snacks!

Up until February of 2013, I remained true to myself and refrained from eating meat. I stunned everyone, including myself, with my self-control and will to do what I believed to be right.

After two years of being a proudly proclaimed vegetarian, things changed. My mom became concerned for my health. I knew I wasn’t getting enough protein on a daily basis, my iron levels were very low and my weight was below average. We decided to see a nutritionist to decide if making the transition back to eating meat was worthwhile for me and my health.

As we had a consultation with the nutritionist, I rolled my eyes as she droned on about the dangerous lack of protein in my diet. I sat there, arms crossed, bitter about the idea of eating meat again.

On the ride home, I thought about how I had conducted myself at the doctor’s office. I was rude, sassy and resistant. I thought that I was being forced against my will to do something that I stood against. Then I started to realize that maybe it wasn’t just my diet that had to change. I had to change my outlook on life and be more open-minded.

I weighed the pros and cons of ditching my vegetarian status; the pros being that I would live a healthier lifestyle, the cons being that I would be promoting a cause that I disapproved of. In the end, I knew what was right for me. I had to start eating meat again. I had to do what was best for my health and for my body.

I still want to be a vegetarian. I still have flashbacks of the gruesome day at the slaughterhouse. The first night my mom cooked meat for me, I barely choked down one ounce of it. I still resist eating meat daily (to my mom’s frustration)!

Nevertheless, I have come to grudgingly accept that I need to balance my opinions with my health. If I sacrifice my health to go all out for something that I strongly believe in, is it really worth it?

After years of thought and consideration, I have finally come to a conclusion. For now, my vegetarian status is not my #1 priority. My health and well-being supersede all. So even on days when I don’t want to eat the chicken patty on my plate, the big picture of self-improvement makes everything worthwhile.