A Personal Journey from Veganism to Flexitarianism
I was in a fish restaurant in Cornwall when I decided to become vegetarian. As I looked at the lobsters creeping sadly around the tank, their claws tied with blue rubber bands, I said to my partner: “If I ever thought about it, I couldn’t eat animals at all.” As I spoke, it occurred to me that maybe I should think about it – so I did, and turned vegetarian on the spot.
Ten years later, in 2016, I went further, and adopted veganism. By then, I was the editor of a plant-based food magazine, the vegan movement was gathering momentum, and supermarkets were beginning to stock vegan ready-meals, meat substitutes and plant milks. It felt like the obvious choice – not to mention easier than a decade previously.
Thanks to my job, I was regularly sent new products and recipe books, and it was easy to “eat the rainbow” with a carousel of vegetables supplemented by tofu, seitan, soya, nuts and pulses.
I was also entering perimenopause, and the prevailing advice was that a vegan diet would ease the symptoms and boost health and longevity. Add that to my lifelong love of animals, I became a full-time vegan.
For a few months, I felt fine. My skin was good, I wasn’t suffering any colds or flu, and nutritional science seemed to back me up, with endless studies on the vast health benefits of a vegan diet. These were generally caveated with all the supplements it was necessary to add – vitamin B12, omega 3 algae, iron – but it seemed a small price to pay for a lifetime of glowing health.
Yet, 10 years later, I’m no longer vegan. I love cheese, I’ve reverted to cows’ milk, I eat eggs and I enjoy fish or seafood at least three times a week. I have betrayed the vegan community, and despite my ongoing love for animals, I don’t regret it.
This week, a new report found that many ex-vegans and vegetarians in the UK are switching back to a “flexitarian” diet and plenty are eating meat again. Growing awareness that protein is crucial for energy, immune function, hormone production and oxygen transportation, along with the creeping ultra-processing of many vegan products, is said to be at the root of the change.
Not to mention the growing expense of meat-free meals. (I know it’s possible to live cheaply on a vast array of vegetables and pulses, but sadly, few have the time or inclination to do so).
The veggie boom peaked post-lockdown in 2021, when around 10 per cent of the UK population were vegan or vegetarian – that’s almost seven million of us refusing meat and fish. Five years on, it’s closer to seven per cent, or 4.7 million. Though still a significant number, it’s a dramatic drop. Another recent survey found that one in four adult office workers “used to” eat a vegetarian diet, but have reverted to meat.
My own journey into the bowels of veganism ended six years ago. I had begun to feel increasingly tired, as menopause galloped on. I hadn’t lost weight, because it was now possible to buy vegan chocolate, and pasta is generally vegan, as are potatoes. But I did find myself lacking energy, feeling generally weak, listless and emotionally wobbly.
Alongside that, I had developed a strange rash, pain “on urination” as the doctors say, and almost constantly itchy skin. It took almost two years for an NHS consultant to diagnose me with a nickel allergy. Nickel is found in soya, pulses, leafy vegetables, nuts and seeds – basically, my entire vegan diet.
I was sick of feeling washed out and wan, and though it pained me to make the decision, I realised I needed animal protein in my diet – partly because I could no longer eat most of the things I’d relied on, and partly because I was sick of feeling exhausted.
When I ate fish – a tin of sardines on toast – for the first time in almost 25 years, I felt immediately lifted. It was as though my body had been craving something I’d almost forgotten about. Returning to cheese, too, was a joy – and though I would only buy organic, free-range milk and eggs, adding them to my diet after years of abstinence felt like the sun coming out. I can also confirm that anything other than cow’s milk in tea is foul.
Maybe for many people, it is possible to be entirely healthy, energetic and happy on a vegan-only diet. All I know is that in retrospect, for me, it was not. As I reintroduced these foods, the rash disappeared, the pain vanished and my energy returned. I now eat fish regularly (though I will never touch octopus, squid or crustaceans – they’re too intelligent.)
I used to load up the trolley in the “vegan aisle” in the supermarket, excited by all the new products. Now, I pass it by, because I feel so much better cooking from scratch than living off ultra-processed pea protein, rusk and flavourings. I still regularly make vegan dinners with vegetables and rice or pasta, but eating animal protein has made a huge difference to my energy, hormones and even outlook. I feel much more positive than I used to in my strictly vegan years.
Of course, for those who don’t have weird allergies, a vegan or vegetarian diet can have significant benefits. A well-known University of Oxford study in the 90s found that vegetarian diets result in a lower BMI, lower blood pressure and slightly lower rates of heart disease, cancer and type 2 diabetes. The study also discovered, however, that vegetarians and vegans have a raised risk of stroke and vegans have a higher likelihood of hip fractures.
My own greatest concern is for animal welfare standards, so I try to choose my food accordingly (and I can’t see myself ever eating meat). But for others, understandably, the relentless rise of UPFs is a good enough reason to eat largely unprocessed, healthy food, including fish, meat and vegetables. In the words of the writer Michael Pollen, the best advice is: ‘Don’t eat anything your great-grandmother wouldn’t recognize as food.’
And these days, I’m very much on board with that sentiment.
