Raw food isn’t always the healthiest choice. Discover the overlooked truths about balance, nutrition, and what plant-based perfection really means.

There was a time I thought eating raw was the gold standard.

No stove, no microwave, no “killing the nutrients.” Just nature, as intended.

I stocked my kitchen with spiralizers and dehydrators, filled my fridge with trays of sprouted seeds and raw date brownies, and convinced myself this was the purest way to eat.

But eventually, something felt… off.

Despite my best intentions, I wasn’t feeling the energy boost I had expected. My digestion was a bit sluggish. And socially, it was isolating—dining out felt like an obstacle course, and I noticed a creeping sense of perfectionism around food that wasn’t entirely healthy.

This isn’t a hit piece on raw veganism. For some people, it works beautifully. But for many of us, the pursuit of the “cleanest” version of plant-based eating can become more about control than nourishment.

Let’s talk about what often gets overlooked in the conversation about raw food perfection.

Cooking isn’t the enemy of nutrition

There’s a lot of fear-mongering around heat and nutrients.

But the truth is, cooking isn’t just about flavor or convenience—it can actually enhance the availability of certain nutrients.

As noted by registered dietitian Whitney English, “Cooking tomatoes increases the bioavailability of lycopene, an antioxidant linked to heart health and cancer prevention.” That’s right—your Sunday sauce might be doing more for you than that cold cherry tomato salad.

The same goes for beta-carotene in carrots and sweet potatoes, and even some antioxidants in mushrooms. Heat breaks down tough cell walls that our bodies can’t digest otherwise.

Yes, some vitamin C is lost when food is cooked. But the trade-off is often worth it, especially when you consider how much easier it is to absorb the nutrients that remain.

Plus, cooked food tends to be more satisfying for longer—particularly when it includes fiber-rich legumes or whole grains that benefit from heat to become digestible.

Gut health is more about diversity than dogma

One of the most interesting shifts I noticed when I eased up on my raw diet was in my digestion.

It actually got better.

I stopped feeling bloated after every meal. I had more regularity, less discomfort. And it turns out, this isn’t uncommon.

As microbiome researcher Dr. Rob Knight has said, “The key to a healthy gut isn’t just fiber—it’s variety.” That means including a wide range of plant foods: cooked, raw, fermented, blended, even frozen.

Raw foods are rich in enzymes, sure. But our bodies make enzymes, too. And not all raw foods are easy on the gut—think cruciferous veggies like cauliflower or cabbage, which can be gas-inducing for many when eaten uncooked.

Adding some lightly cooked or steamed options can balance things out without compromising the benefits.

I also started adding more fermented foods—like tempeh, sauerkraut, and miso—which added a whole new layer of microbial support to my gut without needing to be raw.

Sometimes “pure” eating masks a deeper issue

I’ll be honest—part of what drew me to raw food wasn’t just the health benefits.

It was the sense of discipline it gave me. The structure. The identity.

And while structure can be helpful, it can also become rigid. For me, that rigidity started to look like food anxiety. I turned down invitations to dinner because I couldn’t control the menu. I judged my own cravings. I feared cooked grains.

This is something dietitians now refer to as orthorexia—an unhealthy obsession with eating “clean.”

According to the National Eating Disorders Association, orthorexia isn’t just about food—it’s about the emotional distress tied to eating something perceived as “imperfect.”

If food choices start to feel more like moral decisions than nutritional ones, it might be time to check in with ourselves.

Food should make us feel nourished, not anxious.

And here’s the thing—mental stress around food can actually impact digestion and nutrient absorption. So even if your plate looks perfect, your body might not be reaping the full benefits if you’re eating in a state of tension or fear.

Our ancestors didn’t just forage—they cooked

The idea that raw equals “natural” and cooked equals “processed” is a bit misleading.

Yes, raw food is closer to the earth in some ways. But our ancestors used fire not just for warmth, but for digestion.

Cooking was a survival strategy. It made roots and tubers safer to eat. It softened grains and legumes. It was a way of conserving energy—our bodies didn’t have to work as hard to extract calories.

Anthropologist Richard Wrangham, in his book Catching Fire: How Cooking Made Us Human, even argues that cooking food played a role in our evolutionary development by allowing our brains to grow.

So while raw food can absolutely be healthful, cooked food isn’t some modern betrayal of nature. It’s part of how we’ve adapted and thrived.

Somehow, fire became a villain in modern wellness culture. But maybe it’s time we reclaim it.

There’s no “one way” to do plant-based right

One of the things that kept me stuck in raw food perfectionism was the illusion that I had finally “figured it out.”

That this way of eating was the right way.

But over time, I realized health isn’t a fixed formula. It’s responsive. It changes with your age, your stress levels, your environment. It even changes with the seasons.

In summer, a cold raw salad might feel amazing. In winter? My body craves something warm and grounding.

The flexibility to adapt—to listen and respond rather than dictate—isn’t failure. It’s wisdom.

As noted by integrative nutritionist Ali Shapiro, “Health isn’t about willpower—it’s about developing a deeper relationship with your body’s feedback.”

That stuck with me. Because when we listen, instead of prescribe, we begin to find a way of eating that’s actually sustainable.

Perfection doesn’t mean eating the same way forever. It means evolving with what our body asks of us.

Community matters more than purity

Something else I learned: food isn’t just personal. It’s relational.

When my meals became too “perfect,” I found myself eating alone more often.

Skipping brunch with friends because nothing on the menu felt “clean” enough. Avoiding holidays because of the “uncooked oil” in the family recipe.

It was isolating.

And while it’s great to have boundaries and preferences, they shouldn’t disconnect us from the people we care about.

Food is culture. Connection. It’s the way we celebrate, mourn, and come together.

You don’t have to eat like everyone else to join the table—but if your rules are keeping you from the table at all, that’s something to reflect on.

Health includes joy. And joy often shows up with company.

Balance is less exciting—but way more liberating

Let’s be honest—extremes are seductive.

It’s tempting to believe that going 100% raw, or 100% anything, will unlock next-level health.

But in reality, most of us do best in the messy middle.

A raw smoothie here, a warm lentil stew there. Some days we crave crunch, others we need comfort.

That kind of flexible plant-based eating doesn’t make for flashy headlines. But it makes for a grounded life.

And isn’t that what we’re really after? A way of living that energizes us, connects us, and makes space for both nutrition and pleasure?

When we stop chasing “perfect,” we finally have room for what’s real.

And that, to me, is the most nourishing thing of all.