I am sorry.
I am sorry to every single living, breathing, sentient being that I ever ate in my lifetime.
I am sorry I didn’t make the connection between your face and the piece of flesh on my plate.
I am sorry I numbed my feelings and didn’t think about the horror you endured to get to the grocery store. I saw you in pictures and videos all over the internet and in presentations, but I liked the taste of your dead body too much. So I brushed reality aside and kept buying your body parts at Publix.
I am sorry for the times I drove on the turnpike and saw your family on the side of the road and got excited about how cute they were, and then 5 minutes later stopping at McDonalds to buy the bodies of their relatives.
I am sorry that I reposted animal rights activist pictures about people beating up dogs and cats but didn’t bat an eye when I bit into a burger.
I’m sorry that even when I met my friend’s pet pig and saw her wagging her tail, licking my face and getting excited to play fetch, I ate bacon the next morning, not realizing that if my friend hadn’t adopted this pig, I could’ve been eating her.
I’m sorry that people will stop their car on a way to a restaurant to let ducklings pass by, but then order duck soup once they get there.
I’m so sorry. For telling myself lies to justify eating you. For telling myself you don’t feel pain… or that I need to eat you to survive. For telling myself that your suffering didn’t matter, because … obviously, my tastebuds are the most important thing in the world. But most of all…
I am sorry that you have to sit there in your cramped up pens waiting to get your throat slit …. Meanwhile, you get to watch people get sent to jail for laying a finger on a dog, and petitions to free killer whales, and people posing in photo shoots with their horses, and people watching cat videos for hours and protecting all these animals at all costs which is awesome…..but….
I am sorry that you are the unlucky ones. That society has told me to worship one animal but slaughter the other.
I am sorry that if I speak up against the abuse of a dog it’s called compassion but if I speak up against the abuse of you, it’s extremism. And all you must be wondering is “Why me?” So on behalf of someone who thought it was fine to eat you for years of my life because that was “just the way things are.” I am sorry.
Please pass along my message to the others. For the quarter million animals who’ve been slaughtered since I started speaking, it’s too late. But for the rest of the ones still alive, waiting for their death so they could be sliced up and put between bread, please do extend my apology.
Written by: Paola Roldan/ CSO Representative
Image by: #l98, courtesy of Creative Commons