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Why I'll Never Give Up Dairy

As a child, I would only eat white food. I was chronically fussy - not about the colour, but about the texture of what I was eating. Occasionally I could switch it up, but only when textures were separated from each other to preserve simplicity. For the most part of my first 18 years of life, I survived on white pasta, chopped apples, white bread, and milk. Without knowing it, I looked for an element of consistency and control in what I ate. I was always a skinny child, but I was never unhealthy. The classic symptoms of a sheer lack of nutrients didn't apply to me - my hair was shiny, my skin was clear even as a teen, my teeth were strong and my bones were solid. It wasn't my love of pasta that kept me alive all that time, it was the four pints of cow’s milk per day that flooded me with the energy to pick all of the vegetables out of my dinner every night.
I can remember the first mixed salad I ever ate. I was in college and I was so proud of myself that I relayed the experienc…

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