
Going vegan helped me sleep better—here’s what actually changed in my routine
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Diverging Reports Breakdown
Going vegan helped me sleep better—here’s what actually changed in my routine
Going vegetarian didn’t make me healthier — until I stopped doing three common things that many new vegetarians (including me) get wrong. Not all veggie burgers are equal—some are nutrient-dense and protein-packed, while others are little more than salt and soy flour. I started incorporating more of the following into my meals: lentils, tofu, pumpkin seeds, spinach sautéed in olive oil (plus pairing them with vitamin C-rich foods to boost absorption) I also added seaweed and fermented foods to my routine—not just for nutrients, but for flavor and gut health. It felt less like “fixing” a problem and more like expanding my plate. It was noticeable: more mental clarity, better skin, and no more dragging myself out of bed. I was finally fueling myself, not just filling up. I stopped trying to be a perfect vegetarian and focused on being a mindful one. I also gave myself permission to define what vegetarianism meant to me.
Climate concerns, animal welfare, the growing body of research linking plant-based diets to reduced risk of chronic illness. I read the articles. I watched the documentaries. I cleared out my freezer and stocked up on lentils.
But a few months in, I didn’t feel lighter or more energized. I felt sluggish, irritable, and weirdly bloated. My skin broke out in ways it hadn’t since high school. I wasn’t sleeping well. And worst of all, I felt guilty for feeling bad—wasn’t this supposed to be better for me?
The truth?
Just because a diet is plant-based doesn’t mean it’s automatically healthy.
That’s something I had to learn the hard way. Going vegetarian didn’t make me healthier — until I stopped doing three common things that many new vegetarians (including me) get wrong.
Problem #1: I swapped meat for ultra-processed carbs
When I first gave up meat, I had no real plan for replacing it. I just avoided what I couldn’t eat and leaned on the easiest substitutes — pasta, bread, frozen veggie nuggets, plant-based cheese, instant noodles. I didn’t realize I was eating less protein than ever and a ton of sodium and refined carbs.
I felt full but unsatisfied. My blood sugar spiked and crashed. And I started craving sugar more than usual.
What I changed
Instead of cutting meat without adding something substantial in its place, I started building meals around real, whole sources of plant protein:
I also learned to check labels. Not all veggie burgers are equal—some are nutrient-dense and protein-packed, while others are little more than salt and soy flour.
The shift wasn’t drastic—it just required more thought. And almost immediately, my afternoon energy slumps faded. I was finally fueling myself, not just filling up.
Problem #2: I didn’t pay attention to nutrients I was missing
I assumed I was getting everything I needed because I was eating plants.
More fiber? Sure.
More antioxidants? Definitely.
But I wasn’t thinking about iron, B12, or omega-3s — nutrients commonly found in animal products that can be harder to come by on a vegetarian diet.
By month two, I was tired all the time. I brushed it off as “adjusting,” but my bloodwork said otherwise. My iron was low. So was B12.
My doctor said it was typical — and totally avoidable.
What I changed
Rather than taking a handful of supplements and hoping for the best, I got specific. I started incorporating more of the following into my meals:
Iron: lentils, tofu, pumpkin seeds, spinach sautéed in olive oil (plus pairing them with vitamin C-rich foods to boost absorption)
B12: fortified nutritional yeast (which also became my favorite popcorn topping), plant milks, and a high-quality B12 supplement
Omega-3s: ground flaxseed, chia seeds, walnuts, and algae oil
I also added seaweed and fermented foods to my routine—not just for nutrients, but for flavor and gut health. It felt less like “fixing” a problem and more like expanding my plate.
And the difference was noticeable: more mental clarity, better skin, and no more dragging myself out of bed.
Problem #3: I moralized my meals
This one snuck up on me.
Once I committed to vegetarianism, I started treating food like a personal scorecard. Beans = good. Eggs = maybe bad. Chocolate = depends on the label. I was constantly overthinking my choices—and when I “slipped,” I felt like I had failed.
Instead of listening to my body, I was stuck in my head. I’d go through days eating mostly raw veggies and grain bowls, then binge on salty snacks at night because I was undernourished.
My relationship with food became less joyful and more performative.
What I changed
I stopped trying to be a perfect vegetarian and focused on being a mindful one. That meant:
Eating enough calories, not just checking ingredient lists
Letting go of guilt when I ate something less-than-ideal
Cooking more meals at home so I could play with flavors and textures
Saying yes to meals that felt nourishing—even if they weren’t Instagram-worthy
I also gave myself permission to define what vegetarianism meant to me. For some people, that means no animal products ever. For me, it means eating with awareness, choosing plants first, and prioritizing health—physical and mental.
That shift in mindset helped me stop obsessing over rules and start listening to my body again.
The unexpected benefits once I got it right
Once I made those three changes—prioritizing whole food swaps, addressing key nutrients, and releasing moral pressure—my body caught up with my intentions.
My energy stabilized throughout the day
My digestion improved significantly
My cravings mellowed
My sleep became deeper and more restorative
I felt present in my body again
I even started to enjoy cooking again. I discovered how fun it is to marinate tofu, to turn chickpeas into creamy sauces, and to roast a rainbow of vegetables until they’re caramelized and irresistible.
The truth is, going vegetarian didn’t magically make me healthier — but it gave me the framework to build a healthier life, once I learned how to do it with attention and care.
What I’d tell anyone thinking of going vegetarian
Don’t do it because you think it’s a shortcut to wellness. Do it because it aligns with your values, your curiosity, or your long-term goals—and be ready to learn as you go.
Start simple. Focus on adding, not just subtracting.
Ask yourself: What can I explore today? What helps me feel good—not just now, but long-term?
And don’t be afraid to course-correct. You’re allowed to change your approach as your needs change. That’s not failure. That’s growth.
A smarter vegetarian start: three questions to ask yourself
If you’re just beginning—or if you’re not feeling great after going meatless—these questions can help you reset:
1. What am I actually eating more of?
Are you relying on processed swaps, or getting a range of whole foods and proteins?
2. Am I checking in with my body—or just following the rules?
Cravings, fatigue, or irritability might be signs that something’s missing.
3. Have I made this sustainable?
Are your meals enjoyable and doable long-term? Would you serve them to a friend?
Health isn’t about restriction. It’s about connection — to your body, your environment, and your everyday choices. A vegetarian diet can absolutely support that—but only if it’s rooted in nourishment, not just identity.
Final thoughts
Going vegetarian taught me that health doesn’t come from a label — it comes from how you live within it. I had to unlearn some food myths, face my own assumptions, and relearn how to build a plate that actually supports me.
But once I stopped treating vegetarianism like a shortcut and started treating it like a skill, everything shifted. My body thanked me. My energy returned. And food, again, became something that helped me feel alive—not just “good.”
So if your plant-based journey doesn’t feel like what you imagined—don’t give up. Adjust. Get curious. Tune in.
And know that with the right changes, the health you’re hoping for is absolutely within reach.