My boyfriend is not plant based. He’s not a vegan. He’s not even vegetarian.

He is a card-carrying meat eater. 

You know that song that plays in Toon Lagoon at Universal Studios? We eat red meat?

Yeah, that’s like his theme song.

I have never known someone who could eat meat and little else and be perfectly content and healthy. Sardines for breakfast? Sure. Steak for lunch? Superb. Chicken for dinner? Check.

He can eat a whole block of cheese in a sitting. He drinks cow’s milk, goat’s milk, and egg nog—when it’s in season, of course.

But you know what? It works for him.

It doesn’t always work for me.

Let me tell you a little story.

A coworker of his—we’ll call him Cowboy—raises grass-fed cattle that is treated humanely. One day, 30 pounds of frozen meat from Cowboy took up residence in our freezer. Definitely weird, considering the contents of the freezer typically consist of frozen fruits and veggies. (And the occasional dairy-free, gluten-free burrito.)

My boyfriend uses the fridge thawing method. He very kindly will place the paper-wrapped meat in a drawer with his other animal products (i.e., butter and cheese) so that my contact with it is minimal.

Sweet, right?

On the day referenced in my post’s title, we had just come home from grocery shopping, and I was putting our haul away. I didn’t notice anything odd as I reached for the drawer. But as I pulled it open, the bottom of the drawer was red. Covered in blood.

The meat had leaked.

I was, of course, disgusted but had a hard time looking away. You know, the whole rubbernecker situation. 

Thankfully, my boyfriend found me slowly backing away from the fridge in a daze and quickly jumped into action. 

You’re probably thinking one of two things: So what or what’s the point?

It’s not a big deal, and there is no point.

Just kidding.

What I want you to take away from this story is that everyone’s dietary needs are different. My boyfriend functions best on a carnivorous diet, while I do quite well on a herbivorous diet. The meat stays because it works for him, and the veggies stay because they work for me. He doesn’t expect me to start eating meat, and I don’t expect him to give up meat.

We’ve found what works for us. (Individually and collectively. Except if there’s another incident. Don’t worry - they’re few and far between.) 

And that should be the goal for everyone.