“You’re just a picky eater.”

“If you were hungry enough, you’d eat it.”

“You’ll grow out of it.”

If you’ve heard these comments before, you’re certainly not alone. Many neurodivergent people spend years believing there is something wrong with them because eating feels so much harder than it seems to for everyone else. The reality is that eating is about far more than simply liking or disliking food. For many neurodivergent people, food is a sensory, emotional and cognitive experience, and the brain is processing an enormous amount of information before the first bite has even reached your mouth.

When most people think about eating, they think about taste. In reality, your brain is also processing texture, temperature, smell, colour, appearance, memories associated with that food, body signals like hunger and fullness, how much energy it will take to prepare, and sometimes anxiety about what might happen if the experience isn’t what you expected. When your nervous system processes these things differently, eating can become surprisingly difficult. That isn’t a character flaw, laziness or being dramatic. It’s simply your brain working the way it has always been wired to work.

One of the questions I hear most often is, “Why can’t I just eat normally?” You might forget to eat until you’re suddenly ravenous, feel hungry but find that nothing feels safe to eat, eat the same meal every day for weeks, suddenly go off a favourite food, avoid certain textures completely, or feel anxious about trying something unfamiliar. These experiences are incredibly common in neurodivergent people, yet they’re often misunderstood by those around them.

People frequently assume that eating is simply a choice and that if someone is hungry enough, they will eat whatever is available. Unfortunately, our nervous systems don’t always work that way. Imagine someone placed a bowl of insects in front of you. Even if they assured you they were completely safe and nutritious, your body would probably react before your logical brain had a chance to catch up. Your stomach might tighten, you might gag, your heart rate could increase, and you may feel genuine panic. For many neurodivergent people, certain foods trigger a very similar response. The food itself may be perfectly safe, but their nervous system simply doesn’t experience it that way.

One of the biggest misconceptions is that neurodivergent people simply don’t like “healthy food.” In reality, many fruits and vegetables are some of the least predictable foods we eat. Think about a packet of your favourite crackers. Every cracker looks, smells, feels and tastes almost exactly the same. Your brain knows what to expect before you even open the packet.

Fresh food is completely different. One strawberry might be sweet while the next is sour. One banana might be firm and slightly green, while another is soft and almost mushy. Grapes can be crisp or unexpectedly soft. Blueberries might burst with juice or feel dry and grainy. Even apples can vary dramatically in sweetness, texture and firmness.

Vegetables are equally unpredictable. A carrot can be beautifully crunchy one day and rubbery the next. Broccoli might be firm, soft or almost falling apart depending on how long it’s has been cooked. Lettuce might be crisp one day and limp the next. While these differences seem insignificant to many people, they can completely change the sensory experience for someone whose nervous system relies on predictability.

Many processed foods, on the other hand, are manufactured to be remarkably consistent. The flavour, texture, smell and appearance change very little from one packet to the next. That consistency often feels safe. This isn’t about preferring junk food over healthy food. It’s about your brain knowing exactly what it is about to experience.

It’s also worth remembering that sometimes the challenge isn’t the food itself, but what is happening in your mouth. Meals like stir-fries, salads, curries, casseroles, soups and pasta dishes often contain multiple textures, flavours and temperatures in every single mouthful. One bite might contain crunchy capsicum, soft mushroom, chewy chicken and rice, while the next is mostly sauce. For many neurodivergent people, that unpredictability can be exhausting because the brain has to process a completely different sensory experience with every bite. This is one reason foods that can be separated on the plate or eaten one at a time often feel much more manageable.

Eating can also be affected by something called interoception, which is your brain’s ability to recognise signals coming from inside your body. Interoception helps us notice hunger, fullness, thirst, pain, temperature and fatigue. Some neurodivergent people barely notice they’re hungry until they feel shaky or unwell, while others struggle to recognise when they’re full. These differences aren’t a lack of self-control. They’re simply another example of how the brain receives and interprets information differently.

Executive functioning plays a role too. Sometimes eating isn’t difficult because of the food itself. It’s everything that comes before it. Deciding what to eat, checking whether the ingredients are available, finding clean dishes, preparing the meal and wondering whether you’ll still want it once you’ve cooked it can feel overwhelming before you’ve even started. For many neurodivergent people, that mental load is enough to make eating feel impossible.

This is why safe foods are so important. Safe foods provide predictability. You already know how they will taste, feel, smell and what texture to expect. After a day of managing sensory input, masking or simply navigating a world that can feel overwhelming, that predictability can be incredibly regulating. Safe foods aren’t a sign that someone is being difficult or stubborn. They are often a strategy that helps the nervous system feel calm enough to eat.

If there is one thing I hope you take away from this, it’s that there is nothing wrong with you. You are not lazy, childish, spoiled or failing. Your brain simply experiences food differently. When we stop asking, “Why can’t I just eat normally?” and instead ask, “What does my nervous system need to feel safe?” everything begins to change.

At KISFA Counselling, we believe understanding always comes before change. Food should be a source of nourishment, not fear, shame or daily battles. The more compassion we have for ourselves, the easier it becomes to make changes that are realistic, sustainable and kind.

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