Many times in my life I’ve had a conversation along the following lines:

Them: I couldn’t be a vegan, I haven’t got the self-discipline.

Me: I’ve got no self-discipline when it comes to food.

Them: Of course you have! You’ve been a vegan since 1989!

My work colleagues used to say that, right up until they took me to Hermans, an all-you-can-eat vegan buffet in Stockholm.

The next day I was in quite a bad way. I felt like someone had surgically inserted a basketball somewhere in my guts, and multiple toilet trips weren’t helping.

And this time, the conversations were along the lines of:

Me: I don’t feel well.

Them: I’m not surprised! You ate something like six heaped platefuls of food! Why on Earth didn’t you stop after two?

Me: You don’t understand! I’ve got no self-discipline when it comes to food!

And that’s the thing people don’t understand about my veganism.

It’s got nothing to do with food.