It’s hard to remember the exact moment I decided to become vegan. However, I distinctly recall the journey that led me there.
I used to consume a lot of meat, being originally from Lancashire, England. The “meat and two veg” concept was a way of life there.
Growing up as a child of the 80s, meat was an integral part of every meal. With a mix of English and Scottish heritage in my family, both cultures had strong traditions of meat consumption. Sunday dinners often featured haggis (a dish I still miss dearly), along with beef, lamb, or chicken. It was simply our way of life.
My initial encounters with non-meat dishes were thanks to my sister Steph, who had engaged in a battle with our parents to give up meat due to personal taste preferences (more about Steph’s journey later). While she included fish in her diet, I hardly paid much attention to it.
For a considerable duration, I genuinely relished eating meat. The culinary theater surrounding its preparation, the ritual, the communal aspect of sharing a meal – it was a wonderful experience.
As a conscientious meat eater, I consistently urged my family to support local farmers and choose free-range or grass-fed options. I vividly remember watching documentaries advocating for free-range chickens, like Hugh’s Chicken Run and Jamie’s Fowl Dinners, which emphasized the significance of better living conditions for these animals.
I never deeply pondered my meat consumption nor did I dwell on Steph’s dietary choices. It was her thing, and I respected that. My interactions with other vegetarians were minimal during those early years.
The first notable shift away from meat in my diet occurred when I entered university in 2005. Financial considerations prompted me to opt for more budget-friendly vegetable and egg-based meals over meat. This adjustment allowed me to allocate more funds to my music-related activities and social outings. I occasionally indulged in free-range roast chicken or red meat for special occasions or when hosting guests.
During this period, my diet revolved around pasta, vegetable-heavy tomato dishes, homemade soups, and frequent servings of poached eggs on toast. My eating choices were largely practical, but they didn’t dominate my thoughts. This pattern persisted with intermittent increases in meat consumption as my income improved. As a passionate cook, I was committed to utilizing quality, locally-sourced ingredients.
Fast-forwarding a few years to around 2013, the undeniable reality of climate change and environmental degradation came to the forefront. The scientist within me compelled me to delve into the facts behind these global issues and determine my course of action based on research.
The conclusion was unmistakable: one of the most impactful steps I could take to mitigate environmental harm and lower greenhouse gas emissions was to reduce meat consumption.
Did I take immediate action? Regrettably, no.
Nonetheless, my contemplation deepened, though I refrained from expressing it openly. I remember my friend transitioning to a pescatarian diet, which piqued my interest. Given my affinity for fish, it seemed like a more eco-friendly alternative to meat consumption at the time.
It wasn’t until around 2016 that I began earnestly questioning my comfort level with meat consumption. While I had been ready to make this change earlier, societal expectations weighed heavily on my mind. The potential social drama discouraged me from taking the plunge.
In 2017, I sent a WhatsApp message to my family groups, declaring my decision to stop eating meat from that point forward. I made it clear that I would still consume eggs and fish, as the idea of living without eggs and the classic British dish of Fish & Chips was unimaginable to me. This announcement was intended to inform family gatherings, allowing others to be aware of my dietary shift.
The response was immediate, with inquiries about my reasons and a fair share of skepticism. I noticed a shift in how people treated me, accompanied by raised eyebrows. It appeared that my choice to become “one of those weirdos” was unsettling for some.
I recall a determination to prove to myself that I could adhere to this decision. Once I set my mind on something, I am resolute in seeing it through. Quitting meat became a personal challenge, a testament that if someone like me, who had been a devoted meat consumer for years, could make this change for the planet’s sake, then anyone could.
A vivid memory stands out: a moment of clarity when I recognized I no longer desired meat. At a work canteen, I ordered “vegetarian sausages” with mashed potatoes. Upon tasting them, I realized they were meat-based sausages due to their texture. Not wanting to create a scene or waste food in a group setting, I soldiered through the meal, struggling to consume them. Repulsion set in, particularly due to the texture, and I experienced a sense of guilt.
My pescatarian phase continued until around the fall of 2018. During this time, I delved into the environmental impacts of the fishing industry and the plastic contamination in seafood. Given my prior success transitioning away from meat, I decided it was time to eliminate fish from my diet as well.
The shift from pescatarian to vegetarian was unexpected for many, particularly my family. Around three months prior, I had relocated to Calgary, Alberta, Canada. Notably, Calgary, nicknamed “Cowtown,” had a strong affinity for meat consumption. Preparing meals at home was manageable, but dining out presented challenges. Most restaurants offered limited vegetarian options, and while a few vegetarian burger choices existed, this was prior to the rise of brands like Beyond Meat and Impossible Foods. These burgers lacked texture and were less than satisfying.
Now you might wonder, how did I give up the beloved fish and chips? Surprisingly, it was easier than one might think.
My experiences with fish and chips in Canada left much to be desired. The fish was heavily battered, lacking the desired crispness and often soggy. As for the “chips,” they were usually more akin to fries, often dry and uninspiring. While some places claimed to serve chips in the British style, they fell short of expectations.
Perhaps my lack of yearning for fish and chips was due to their lackluster quality in Canada. Conversely, I eagerly anticipate trips to the UK primarily to indulge in authentic chips!
With more time spent in Calgary, an increasing number of vegetarian choices emerged in restaurants. However, salads remained the primary option, and personally, I preferred exploring more unique dining experiences while eating out. My menu selections gravitated toward dishes with eggs and cheese, maintaining a connection to familiar tastes, especially in the realm of pizzas.
Moving ahead to the middle of the pandemic in 2020, my perspective on food began to evolve further. Documentaries and articles on animal welfare and environmental impact prompted me to reevaluate my eating habits. This shift went beyond the scope of vegetarianism, focusing on how my dietary choices intertwined with animal welfare and the health of our planet.
The realization struck that remaining solely vegetarian no longer aligned with my ethical compass. I recognized the need to eliminate all products associated with animals from my diet.
This transition was more challenging than the shift from pescatarian to vegetarian. I used to adamantly claim that giving up cheese was unimaginable for me.
Contrary to having a sweet tooth, my dessert of choice was often a platter of cheese and biscuits. Letting go of cheese and eggs proved to be the most difficult change for me. Nevertheless, the thought of animals suffering for my consumption motivated me to embrace this change, and the initial difficulty gradually faded.
Instances where I address my veganism, such as family gatherings or dining with others, still occasionally trigger discomfort or misunderstanding. Despite the irony of discussing this within an article about my vegan journey, I’m one of those vegans who prefers not to label myself as such upfront. The potential awkwardness and the shifts in perception that follow can be off-putting.
Over time, I’ve grown less concerned about how such situations affect my well-being, adopting a more carefree attitude. I no longer feel the need to downplay my choices by presenting myself as a vegetarian with dairy intolerance.
As of 2023, I find myself in a contented place with my vegan lifestyle. Connecting with fellow vegetarians and vegans has been invaluable in navigating this path. Notably, my sister Steph recently embraced veganism, providing us with a shared commitment.
The restaurant landscape has evolved to offer more vegan options than ever before, including entirely vegan establishments. The proliferation of meat substitutes, like Beyond Meat and Impossible Foods, has introduced options that closely resemble the textures I enjoyed in meat-based dishes.
Reflecting on the pivotal moments that brought me to this point, I can attribute my journey to the following factors:
- Finding a larger purpose for becoming vegan, extending beyond personal preferences.
- Unusual experiences, like encountering subpar fish and chips in Canada.
- The introduction of satisfying meat substitutes that fulfilled my desire for texture.
- Recognizing that one’s palate adjusts relatively swiftly to not craving meat, dairy, or animal products.
- Embracing my decision and subtly educating others about vegan choices.
- Connecting with like-minded individuals to ease the sense of isolation.
- Discovering valuable recipe resources.
- Learning to utilize oat milk, Just Egg, mushrooms, tofu, nutritional yeast, hemp hearts, arrowroot powder, and lentils in cooking.
- Experiencing improved physical well-being without meat and dairy consumption.
My hope is that my journey inspires you to consider reducing meat consumption and exploring the path to veganism.