CULT EXCOMMUNICATION IN PROGRESS

How I joined the cult of veganism and how I got kicked out.

It’s 2 a.m., and I’m scrolling through the words strangers have written about me online. Their sentences are catty, sticky with tacky self-righteousness. Surely, they can’t be talking about me? They don’t even know me! I double-check to make sure I’m watching the right video. I guess I am. Sigh. This isn’t my first cancellation rodeo, but this time it’s different. This time, I’m extra cancelled. Extra double cancelled with fries. Coming in hot!

the instagram photo that kicked it all off

What sins have I committed to deserve this purge, you might ask? Plenty. Too many to count. But to understand, we’d have to turn the clock back ten years.

---

It’s the mid-2010s, and an Australian woman with double-Ds, leggings, and an impossibly microscopic waist holding it all together is going viral on YouTube. Clips of an ass you could bounce coins off of are interspersed with grotesque slaughterhouse footage and an alarming number of spotted bananas. More bananas than you could ever imagine being suffocated in a Vitamix and then consumed by just one woman alone.

This woman, of course, is Freelee the Banana Girl. If you’ve never heard of her, I envy you. I often wonder what my life might have been like if, on a fateful night in Dubai during March 2014, the YouTube algorithm had shown me a video about pottery instead of this banana-blending blonde.

I might have never gone vegan. I might have never started my YouTube channel, never gone viral, never converted hundreds (maybe thousands) of people to veganism. I definitely would have never traveled to Chiang Mai for the Thai Fruit Festival to meet Freelee, never made vegan friends in Thailand and would have never joined them on their trip to Bali, where I contracted pneumonia—yes, the medieval disease that apparently, still exists and is still lethal—which spiraled into a chronic health condition that eventually led me to quit veganism, hide it from my audience for two years, and finally get “exposed” as a defector by the crusaders of the cause. *Inhales.*

---

At this point in our story, I’d imagine you likely fall into one of three camps:

1. You were on the same vegan rollercoaster and also peaced out at some point.

2. You’re still vegan and thriving (either hate-reading this essay or being extraordinarily kind, there’s no in-between).

3. You have no idea what any of this vegan drama is about, but you’re here because you love reading about cults.

If you’re in group three, allow me to simulate the experience of being brainwashed by the cult of veganism:

We’re back to the early-2010s, and I cannot stress enough how influential Freelee was during that time. This was an era when girls who grew up watching ANTM and celebrities being fat-shamed for their cellulite were spending increasingly more time on YouTube. And with our eyeballs, we brought many of our Tyra Banks-inspired ideas of what a young woman should look like. Freelee understood those ideas, she lived by them, she emulated them. But unlike the coy models and celebrities of the time, she was generous enough to share her diet with us: As she parades around my laptop screen in her leggings she reveals her secret. She was vegan. Ve-what? I’d never heard about that diet before.

There was no denying she was a bit trashy and flashy but I subscribed and kept watching for more tips and tricks. The brainwashing was initiated.

Her most popular content was her reactions to “What I Eat in a Day” videos. “Typical influencer starting their day with chicken periods,” she’d sneer. “Stop promoting cruelty on your channel. Be a better role model for your young, impressionable viewers. Go vegan! And you’d lose so much weight, too! I used to be bloated and look at my waist now, you can barely see it. Buy my weight loss ebook: Raw Till 4 for more plant based recipes. Link in the description.”

I don’t buy her ebook, but I decide to give that plant-based diet a try. Wait a minute, I feel great, I’m not hungry all the time like I was with other diets. My flight attendant uniform is less tight. This is going better than I expected.

Then she links to a documentary: Earthlings. “This film shows undercover footage from the meat industry. Watch it if you care about animals and the planet.” Of course, I care about animals and the planet! I sob over the slaughterhouse footage as I drink my too-many-banana smoothie. I could never eat meat again. This is murder. These animals live in filth and darkness, and I’ve been contributing to it. I feel guilty, ashamed. I can do better. Be a better person. Prove to myself I’m not selfish like those influencer girls Freelee exposes in her videos.

I’m not just plant-based anymore; I’ve ascended to a new level. I am VEGAN.

Vegans don’t eat meat, eggs, dairy, seafood, or honey. They don’t wear leather, silk, wool, or fur. Their beauty products aren’t tested on animals. They drink only vegan wine, take vegan-only supplements, and some even avoid figs for reasons I don’t have time to explain. I was overwhelmed by the rules, but I kept watching videos and documentaries to learn more.

“We’ve created a speciesist world where animals suffer for our benefit,” Freelee preached. “You wouldn’t eat a dog, so why eat a pig? You wouldn’t wear a coat made of cat fur, so why is it okay to wear other animals? That’s speciesism—it’s like racism, but worse.”

Worse? I couldn’t believe I had been worse than a racist by eating meat.

More footage rolled on my screen: baby chicks tossed alive into meat grinders. “This is an animal holocaust. What side of history do you want to be on? That of the liberator or the oppressor?” I would never support the Nazis, and I could never contribute to the animal holocaust, either. I need to be on the right side of history.

I’m watching more vegan YouTubers now, falling deeper into the rabbit hole. Gary Yourofsky’s speech rattles me. I watch more of his videos. He tells me vegans shouldn’t eat at the same table as meat-eaters. It makes sense, doesn’t it? You can’t encourage animal abuse. Better yet, only eat and socialize with other vegans. Isolation begins to feel like a virtue.

Another activist insists that even grandma’s backyard hens are complicit in the cruel meat industry. They normalize speciesism, she says. All animal subjugation is exploitation. Suddenly, I can’t look at a chicken coop the same way again.

“I’ve been vegan for 10 years,” Freelee declares in her heavy Australian accent. “I’m vegan for life.”

Vegan for life, I repeat in my head, and I truly believe it. “Turn your family vegan,” she urges. “Your friends. Go on social media and talk about veganism. You must be a voice for the voiceless.” Of course, animals can’t defend themselves. It’s not enough if I don’t eat them; the whole world must become vegan, and I need to help make that happen.

Freelee built her army of vegan mercenaries with efficiency envied by CIA PsyOp programs and the church of Scientology.

Four years after my indoctrination and all is peachy. I’m finding success on YouTube, my idealist values are hitting home with other’s in their 20’s and my audience is growing fast. I could never imagine my ethics changing. Vegan for life. The world is waking up, it’s only getting better from here and I’m part of the people making it better. Then, a bomb drops.

Bonnie Rebecca, one of Freelee’s closest disciples and a fellow vegan content creator, posted the first “Why I’m No Longer Vegan” video. The vegan community’s wrath was unleashed upon her like hail and brimstone. Every vegan channel made video replies, ranging from invalidating her health issues to full-on ridicule and personal attacks. “She could have tried harder,” they said. “She cared too much about bloating. Acne is such a superficial reason to go back to eating animals. She’s selfish. She was never vegan in the first place. She never cared about animals. Evil, narcissistic girl.” The character assassination was more than effective. She became a pariah. Persona non grata numero uno.

Poor Bonnie Rebecca.

But when you’re a voice for the voiceless that’s justified. What is some ridicule, humiliation, doxxing, and harassment compared to the suffering of animals? Simply stay vegan for life or get what you deserve, animal abuser. You pretended to care for clout, trends and YouTube views. What a phony.

Yet here I am now: my phoniness exposed. “Kristen Leo Secretly No Longer Vegan, Why?” I stare at the YouTube video title on my phone knowing damn well I’m not relevant enough to have videos like this made about me. But I’m a tiny bit flattered anyone would still care. How narcissistic of me.

a compilation of comments left under the video exposé - a wonderful community of animal lovers and their thoughts about me

The exposé ranged from moments zooming in on my Instagram photos to clips of my videos taken out of context. My partner was blamed for my dietary change, as were astrology and shifting politics. I’m trying very hard to not defend myself against every dumb ass(umption), but I will say this: they had nothing to do with my decision. I was already an ex-vegan when we met. The vegan crusaders, it seems, approve of socializing exclusively with other vegans. Romantic relationships with non-vegans are met with suspicion, even disdain. Maybe this isn’t just about food; maybe it’s about control. And I, for one, did not break out of control freak rehab to let these pesky, culty rats drag me back in.

Kristen Leo caught red handed with organic, free-range eggs at the Hollywood farmer’s market.

If you Google “Is veganism a cult?” the AI-generated response is a firm NO. And I would agree. Veganism, in its simplest form, is the practice of abstaining from animal products. Pretty unculty really. But spend some time on r/exvegans, and you’ll find countless threads where former vegans describe feeling like they’ve left a cult. Myself and many of my ex-vegan friends also share this sentiment.

Not all vegans are in the cult and even less of them are self righteous mercenaries of the cause. It’s unfortunate that these are the ones that are the loudest.

“She was never vegan,” they regurgitate in unison in the comments. But I was though. I was a vegan activist, not just online. I went on reality TV to preach the movement’s gospel, I joined protests and tried to convert strangers on the street. I never monetized my activism beyond the pennies of YouTube ad revenue and Patreon. I wasn’t paid for public talks. I didn’t sell books, stickers, T-shirts, or courses. It was for real y’all and I don’t regret it.

So, what caused such a dramatic shift in my beliefs? Is it time to divulge? Do I dive into details about my guts, my fatigue, my brain fog, my doctor visits, my supplements, the years of pain and hopelessness, the first non vegan bite, the guilt, the joy, the diet I follow now? God, please no. The culty food and health sharing cycle that started all of this drama can end here. There’s nothing wrong with a little bit of mystery, don’t you think?

But since I’m still on my soapbox and if my opinions matter to anyone at all, here’s my PSA: If you want to suffer physically or mentally for an extended period of time for any cause, cult, goal or purpose, go for it babez. I will not stop you. I also love suffering, I love masochism, self sacrifice is so hot, but sometimes it goes on for too long and it’s ok to let go and enjoy life a little. You don’t have to be perfect all the time. You don’t have to be virtuous 24/7. Puritanism is so last century.

I’m not here to judge you anymore as long as you don’t judge me either.

Let’s pinky promise on that.