“Are you sure you aren’t going to eat the turkey? What about the ham?”

The first thing I heard on the day dedicated to thankfulness was dripping with disdain. I didn’t get questions about how I’m doing, what colleges I’m looking at, or even on my relationship status; instead I was welcomed with judgement based on what I chose to eat.

In a family where almost everyone on both sides are happy omnivores, I stick out like a sore, green thumb

My choice to abstain from meat didn’t start as a way to make family holidays harder or even as a response to the animal cruelty that often plagues meat production. It was instead a response to the overuse of agricultural resources in the meat industry.

Meat is primarily a monumental waste of water. When compared to other food sources, meat– beef especially– stamps a huge aquatic footprint. To produce one pound of beef, it takes around 1,800 gallons of water in total. This huge number accumulates due to the abundance of water needed to produce everything the cow consumes throughout its lifetime, plus added water for simple things like drinking and cleansing. In other words: you would need to skip around 26 showers to offset every 4 ounces of hamburger that you eat.

Think about it: If one hamburger is equivalent to around 26 showers, and the average American shower uses roughly 17 gallons, how much water is potentially wasted during the production of the Thanksgiving turkey? On a day that we’re supposed to be thankful for what we have, shouldn’t we be conserving, not wasting?

However, in opposition to the stereotypical vegetarian/vegan, I️ didn’t go around the dinner table trying to convince others to switch to the “healthy side,” condemning everyone who was eating the turkey, or informing them of their negative environmental impact. I️ just sat in the corner eating a slew of mashed potatoes, stuffing, and a delicious Italian salad my mom had very thoughtfully made for me.

Despite the initial badgering I got for skipping the turkey and ham this Thanksgiving, my family and I were able to put our dietary differences aside and celebrate what was really important. Thanksgiving is not about what you eat, but who you’re with. Sure, we all gather around the turkey– to many it’s a physical representation of family, both immediate and extended– but family and friend bonds go far beyond the skin and bones of the festive bird. The meat itself, and the arguments it may create, will only last a day, while the relationships forged around it will last a lifetime.