Veganism is my kink.

Let me elucidate. A very smart, sex-positive woman I know who grounds herself in sensuality introduced me to the idea of “existential kink:” that there is an unconscious part of us secretly enjoying things our conscious mind finds sucky, and successful shadow work involves the integration of this part. She uses the analogy of kinks like BDSM – essentially a play-practice of acting out scenarios usually considered unpleasant or painful within certain consensual boundaries. Turning it into a pleasurable game, with agreed-upon rules and parameters.

I know a lot of people look at plant-based eating as a kind of punishment. An onerous and complicated form of privation. I’ve even heard it referred to as an eating disorder.

There are plenty of good reasons – moral, environmental, and medical – to opt out of consuming animal products (as well as to cook whole foods and avoid processed ones), but I’m not here to proselytize. I will tell you that when I became persuaded, I took it on as a challenge. How pleasurable can I make this experience within these parameters? How much fun can I have with a lifestyle others consider prohibitive, and even entice them to play?

Because at the end of the day, eating is a sensual experience. It ought to be pleasurable as well as nourishing.

Just look at my big, juicy mango. You know you want it.

Let me tempt you with my pleasant fruits.