Two Months as a Vegetarian: What I Expected vs. What Happened

Why I Decided to Try Being Vegetarian

My 10-day silent meditation retreat gave me a compelling reason to go vegetarian for one full year. For the sake of mental purification, I needed to practice sila (shee-lah) — the moral and ethical precepts. The very first? Do not kill. That’s why, every time a juicy, hunky slab of meat is in front of me, I choose not to eat it. My why is what keeps me going—especially in those moments when my taste buds are plotting a coup.

Of course, I’m not perfect. One month in, after a very bad day, I caved: Netflix, air-fried frozen chicken nuggets, and tater tots dipped in ketchup and Japanese mayo. I told myself the nuggets had been in my freezer before I made the decision, and throwing them away felt wasteful.

If you had asked me a year ago, I would’ve said there’s no way I could give it up. I grew up in a Chinese household where meat wasn’t just part of the meal—it was the star. My family valued a balanced diet, which for us meant variety in vegetables and meats (sometimes ones unfamiliar to most people). I’ve always taken pride in mastering how to prepare meats—whether it’s breaking down a whole chicken, sous viding steaks, or skillfully bringing out their flavors.

So yes—I love meat. Even now, at gatherings, I sometimes catch myself staring longingly at fried chicken wings, or oxtail stew on the table. But two months ago, I made a one-year commitment to go vegetarian (plant-based foods, eggs, and dairy). And surprisingly? Some of the things I thought would be hard aren’t, and some unexpected challenges have tested me more than I imagined.

“If you’ve ever tried changing the way you eat, you probably know it’s not
just a diet shift
— it’s a whole
life shift.”

The Challenges

The hardest part so far hasn’t been flavor—it’s been the social side of eating. Sharing meals has always been one of my favorite things: eating family-style, trying new dishes, talking about food like it’s art. Before, I was a Yelp Elite member, raving about chefs who could turn a plate into a masterpiece. Now I’m “that” person asking about modifications, which makes family-style meals trickier.

The other big challenge has been my family’s reaction—especially my parents. Out of love and concern, they’ve worried that without meat, I’m depriving my body of essential nutrients. Weekly family dinners have sometimes turned into tense debates, with warnings based on vague anecdotes (“My friend was vegetarian and ended up in the hospital!”). I know they mean well, but it’s still hard to hear disapproval for something I’m choosing for my own well-being.

One of the most unexpected moments on this journey happened at my nephew’s birthday lunch. We were all sitting around the family table when my mom began airing her grievances about how we, her children, disappoint her. At one point she pointed directly at me and said I’d caused her so many problems by “deciding to become a vegetarian.” I was already uncomfortable with the idea of my diet becoming a public debate—I hadn’t even told everyone in my family yet. I’d wanted a little space to keep experimenting before announcing this decision.

But before I could say anything, my uncle—valiant and modern man that he is—spoke up:

“What’s wrong with that? That’s good!”

I felt touched that he came to my defense and showed my mom that this wasn’t something to get so worked up about. At the same time, I felt sad that my own mother couldn’t meet my choice with an open mind. I don’t make decisions just to make her life harder—though that’s how she sometimes sees it. But her reaction reminded me: I can’t control her feelings, and expecting her support is just another form of attachment.

My sister put it simply: “They won’t like it at first, but over time they’ll just have to accept it.” And I realized—acceptance has to come from all sides.

“‘They won’t like it at first,
but over time they’ll just have to accept it.’ And I realized—acceptance has to come
from all sides.”

What I Thought Would Be Hard (But Isn’t)

Flavor isn’t an issue. Growing up, vegetables were never the enemy in my house. I always liked many of them, so making them the centerpiece of my meals has been more fun than expected. Honestly, the real challenge has been physical—adjusting to more fiber, more beans, and making sure I get enough protein without overloading on foods that cause bloating.

The Catalyst

The shift really started during a 10-day Vipassana meditation course. The meals were fully vegetarian, with gluten-free and vegan options, and to my surprise, I never felt unsatisfied. The dishes weren’t just nourishing—they were delicious. I still think about the vegetable lasagna and hearty vegetable soup from that retreat. At times, I did crave meat, but it wasn’t nearly as bad as I thought it would be. That experience dissolved so many of my fears about going meatless.

How I’m Adjusting

I’ve learned to keep a curious mind about food—experimenting with spring rolls, trying new vegetables, and learning about their nutritional properties. I’m practicing acceptance: my parents might not understand right now, but over time, they might come around (or at least stop fighting it).

I’m also focusing on my “Why”: this choice is part of my practice of sila—moral and ethical conduct—as a way to support mental purification. It’s about learning patience, noticing when I get agitated or impatient, and shifting my perspective when things don’t go as planned.

What’s Next

I’m excited to explore Ayurvedic cooking, discover more vegetarian dishes, and continue this experiment. I don’t know exactly where I’ll land at the end of the year, but I do know this: the process itself is teaching me as much about my mind as it is about food.

If you’ve ever tried changing the way you eat, you probably know it’s not just a diet shift — it’s a whole life shift. I’m still figuring it out, and maybe that’s the point: mindful living isn’t about getting it perfect, it’s about staying curious, listening to yourself, and being kind to your body in the process.