I was never a “good” vegetarian. I would break for special occasions, when traveling, or just to make sure I got the chance to try something special. My ethos was and still is:
Do your best to minimize your contribution to climate change and/or the suffering of animals, but not to the extent that you feel you’re constantly missing out.
Once, while I was following this mostly-veggie mantra, I ate a traditional tamale stuffed with meat. The mother of the guy who I was dating at the time had made them, and they were one of his favorite dishes. Before warming up the tamale for me, this ex-boyfriend made a judgmental remark along the lines of, “You’re going to just forget your morals like that?”