When Veganism Stopped Being Sexy: Why Everyone’s Suddenly Posting Meat Again
For a while it felt like there was an unspoken agreement. Oat milk was mandatory. Veganism was progressive. Soy schnitzel was not just food but proof that you got it. It even showed up at Borchardt’s menu, the iconic schnitzel place in Berlin. Climate, ethics, awareness, everything seemed answered in one order. Food stopped being private and started becoming part of how you positioned yourself. What you ordered said something about your values, your softness, your discipline, your awareness. And now the feed looks different. Suddenly there is steak everywhere. Raw beef bowls, raw milk, protein plates styled like luxury objects. Not quietly, not casually, but intentionally visible. And if you are someone trying to make sense of it all, it is confusing, because it is not just about taste or morals anymore. It feels like another rule change you did not vote for.
For many vegans, telling someone they don’t eat animals now sometimes draws a strange look, a raised eyebrow, as if they’ve committed a social faux pas. Why? Because your favorite influencer is suddenly posting meat like a Birkin bag. Raw beef tartare, Wagyu steak, even bacon casually posed as an accessory in Instagram posts all carefully staged to signal status and expense. It is not about morals or nourishment anymore; it is performance, a quiet competition of wealth and visibility, and it can make those who once felt at home in ethical choices feel conspicuously out of step.
Did everyone wake up and decide animals are back on the menu?
Food has entered a new control era, just with a different costume. Protein has become the new clean accessory. Eating has turned into performance again, but the aesthetic flipped. Where veganism once signaled morality and consciousness, meat now signals strength, discipline, and being unbothered by opinions. It is the opposite flex, especially online. Gym culture, wellness culture, anti ultra processed food discourse all merge into the same idea that real food must be animal food. That anything plant based is industrial, suspicious, or artificial. But is the message really about health, or is it more about picking a side?
This hits a specific nerve because bodies have always been part of the conversation, whether we wanted them there or not. Veganism was once framed as clean, ethical, and controlled. Meat is now framed as strong, grounded, and somehow smarter. Both come with rules. Both come with judgment. What does this say about you? If you eat plant based, are you naive, performative, fragile? In between sits the very real confusion of wanting to eat well without turning every meal into a moral referendum or a body project. Wanting to enjoy your soy schnitzel without being told it is poison. Wanting to question whether fully unprocessed always equals better in a world where nothing is actually simple.
Most of this is not about nutrition at all. It is exhausting. Tired of checking every ingredient list. Tired of perfection. Tired of being sold a new truth every few years. You just get used to one way of eating, one moral framework, one narrative, and suddenly the whole thing flips and you are told you were wrong again. Social media amplifies these swings until they look like movements in two opposite directions.
Real life is more flexible. Real life is people eating eggs again but still ordering almond milk. People choose whole foods without filming it. People mixing habits instead of committing to identities.The algorithm does not show that, because it is boring. You do not have to replace your vegan trends with raw beef to be healthier, relevant, or evolved. Food is not a personality test, even if the internet wants it to be one. Eating is something each person has to figure out for themselves. Inspiration online can help, but it cannot replace listening to your own body. There is a huge risk in copying what we see other people do online, especially when those people live in extremes. Very black and white ways of eating look convincing on a screen, because they offer clarity, rules, and discipline. But living under constant restriction is rarely good for the body or the mind. Food should not feel like a system you have to obey perfectly, or a set of rules you are scared to break. It should feel responsive. Many people know this instinctively. There are phases in life where eating meat suddenly feels wrong in your body, so you stop, and that can feel grounding and right for years. And there are other moments later in life, with different stress levels, hormones, routines, or needs, where your body asks for something else, and you listen again.
That shift does not mean you failed, or betrayed a value. It means you are paying attention. Eating is not a fixed identity. It is a relationship that changes with you. Following what feels right for you in that moment, without justification, without explanation, without performance, is not weakness. It is probably the most balanced choice there is.
Finding your own routine, your own rhythm, your own way of eating that supports your energy, your hormones, your skin, your focus, your health. That takes time, and it is worth putting that effort into yourself rather than chasing trends that change every few years. Because how you eat can improve a lot in your life, or quietly take from it. That choice deserves to be based on more than social media lifestyle trends.
Trends come and go. And while the internet keeps moving on to the next extreme, veganism remains what it always was: not a trend, not a performance, but a conscious choice of care for your body, for the planet, and for lives that are not yours to consume.
by Lareen Roth
