I have a confession to make; are you ready? Here goes…
If you’re relatively carnivorous yourself, it’s quite possible that you are currently breathing a sigh of relief and muttering under your breath “thank God she isn’t one of THOSE people.” I know. Vegans can be a pain. In fact, the word “vegan” is oft preceded by the word “militant.” Yes, vegans have a reputation of being quite an angry bunch. Now that I mention it, as this confession goes on, some vegan readers are likely getting riled up to hear that I am no longer one of them.
So…wait. Not actually vegan? What does that mean? No worries, darling. I’ve got us covered.
To put it simply, I used to be vegan and now I’m not.
But I try to be.
But not too hard.
Ugggghhh. I suppose that it isn’t all that simple. Let me tell a story. Five years ago, I went cold-turkey (puns lighten the mood, right?) on eating meat/poultry/fish. Like many of us curious people, I had watched countless food documentaries and had gradually started to feel a slight twinge of guilt while eating my delectable chicken dinner or weekend bacon and eggs. Finally, in my late teens, I watched the documentary that was the proverbial back-breaking-straw and decided to cut out meat for good. For a month, I was vegetarian. Then I decided that the time was NOW to go for it all the way, so I cut out dairy and eggs too. This made me, for all intents and purposes (I still carried a leather bag, so I was really just plant-based; we’ll come back to this) vegan. The trouble was, I discovered alternative foods such as dairy-free frosting and dairy-free cookies and dairy-free frosting filled cookies and… the list goes on. During that month-long period, I became progressively unhealthier. I felt heavy, sluggish, foggy.
So, back to vegetarianism I went, embracing my beloved Greek yogurt, butter-filled muffins, and let’s be real, cake, with open arms (and mouth). Things stayed this way for more than a year. I didn’t really miss meat. All was well.
Until… I got sucked into the black hole that is the YouTube vegan (raw vegan, in particular) community. I spent the next year and a half as a hard-core (as in, I never slipped up, EVER), verging-on-militant vegan. Much of this time was spent as a HCLF**, fruit-eating machine.
I gained weight.
I felt lethargic.
I watched videos about why I was gaining weight and feeling lethargic.
I read books about my problems (which were, surprisingly to me, not all that uncommon). I watched more videos. I ate more fruit while staring longingly at the slim bodies of those who purported this way of life. I gained more weight. What was happening to me? Clearly, I thought, I just wasn’t doing it right. Or I hadn’t waited long enough for the lean-body-clear-skin-abundant-energy effects to take place. I was certain, absolutely certain, that veganism was most definitely the only way that I should eat. After several years of turning down pieces of birthday cake and casually shrugging away pizza while eating a wilty restaurant salad, I was determined that I wouldn’t ruin all of my hard work and dedication just because of a heavier body and mind.
However… just maybe, a tiny voice at the back of my mind whispered, this way of life isn’t right for your body.
I ignored her (my inner guidance) for a long time. That was not an act of self-love. What I thought of as being loyal to my value system (I had, as it turns out, become vegan primarily for the animals and environment, despite the fact that it turned into a twisted-must-lose-weight-body-image issue) was really me ignoring my inner truth.
Eventually, living alone in California, thousands of miles from my home and family, I read a book that really started to bring these thoughts forward into my daily consciousness. The book was called “Breaking Vegan” by Jordan Younger, a former vegan activist. Former. Vegan. Activist. Such a thing existed? A switch was finally flipped.
There were several problems with admitting that veganism wasn’t right for me. Most problematic was the fact that I had ingrained veganism into both my value system and my identity. Realizing that something that you strongly believe in may not actually be your truth is…
Frightening.
Vulnerable.
Deeply unsettling.
It throws your whole inner compass off balance, as you are forced to confront the fact that other facets of what you considered to be your unalterable set of personal morals may also not be set in stone and may even be… wrong. Holy hell. This can be terrifying. What else am I wrong about? More importantly…
Who am I?
That becomes the suddenly open-ended question.
For me, this led to a huge self-re-evaluation. These are good, and even necessary, but alarming as all get out.
Then there is the ego component. Hard as we may try, ethical vegans (people who are vegan for the animals/environment, who are not just trying out a fad diet) must, by the very nature of this being an ethical issue, consider themselves to be living a…better…lifestyle than non-vegans. This, often unintentional, sense of superiority gets pulled out from under you if you decide to abandon veganism. For me, it was extremely embarrassing to admit to friends, family, and casual acquaintances, that yes, I did get off my high horse, and yes, I would like a piece of their butter and egg filled birthday cake. Please.
Ultimately, I want to be as loving and joy-filled and light-emitting a person as I can possibly be. For years, I desperately wished for veganism to give me the sparkling rainbow super powers that so many vegans seemed to effuse. But, quite frankly, it contributed to my anxiety, lethargy, and weight gain, in addition to making me a tense ball of dogmatism that others sometimes wanted to avoid. Instead of my light being turned up, I was dimmed.
This is absolutely not to say that veganism is wrong for everyone.
This is also not to say that I abandoned it completely.
This is only to say that I loosened my grip on the reigns.
Today, I consider myself to be plant-based, though I find labels in general to be a concept that separates us, so even this is a tentative word choice. I would estimate that I eat at least 95% vegan foods. I order almond milk in my matcha lattes, never buy leather, and often bake with coconut oil instead of butter. But when someone offers me a homemade cookie, I don’t turn them down anymore. When I go to a restaurant and the only vegetarian option is cooked in butter, I don’t make my friends go to a different place. When we wake up late on a Sunday morning and make chocolate blueberry waffles, we use eggs. Usually, I buy organic, free-range (that’s controversial in and of itself) brown eggs, but sometimes he buys conventional white eggs. I no longer throw a hissy fit. I’m happier this way. Everyone around me is happier this way.
Wholeheartedly, I believe that factory farming and the animal food production industry exercise reprehensible practices.
Wholeheartedly, I believe that animals should not be killed for sustenance when we can get our nutritional needs met through whole, plant-based foods. I understand that the dairy industry contributes to the veal industry and I don’t want to contribute to the death of baby cows. But… I also don’t want to be so tense that I make myself and those around me miserable. I don’t want to develop an eating disorder that eats away at not only my body, but my mind (BIG, IMPORTANT note: I do not think that vegans have an eating disorder, only that with my hard-core obsessive personality, strict veganism was a manifestation of mine).
It comes down to the fact that I would rather be happy than right.
I would rather be loving towards myself and my family.
I began my vegan journey because:
I truly don’t want to harm animals…
The planet…
My body…
I understand that the standard American diet contributes to global warming, to atrocities against our fellow earthlings, to clogged arteries.
With this post, I am sending my love to all people, regardless of their dietary choices. Each of us has a different body, different mental state, different background, different set of circumstances. All of us are doing the best that we can. I love veganism. I love vegans. I love the animals. I love the planet. I love you. I love myself. Right now, loving myself looks like 95%.
I’ve come to be okay with 95%.
In fact, I’m proud of 95%.
95% is pretty damn good.
Being conscious of the impact that you are making on other earthlings and our planet is paramount to living an aligned, fulfilling life. But darling, so is being conscious of what will make you the most balanced, loving version of yourself.
For me, that’s what it looks like to be a not-quite-vegan. That’s my truth, but it doesn’t have to be yours. That’s okay. Compassion for all.
Love,
Lola
*The difference between veganism and vegetarianism in a nutshell: there are a plethora of different classes of vegetarians, but most people consider vegetarians to be people who don’t eat meat (this usually includes cutting out fish). Some people continue to eat poultry and consider themselves to be vegetarians, as though chicken isn’t real meat…what?…okay…moving on… Alternately, vegans are people who don’t consume anything (including purchasing products) that is derived in any way, shape, or form, from animals. In practice, this means abstaining from butter, eggs, and dairy in addition to meat. Also, it means avoiding many high-end shoes, bags, and jackets, arguably the more difficult task. Clearly, this is an over-simplified distinction, but it’s a start.
**HCLF = high carb, low fat, a.ka. lots of potatoes/bananas and very few nuts/seeds
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