It’s been over a decade, and I still can’t look at a Boston Cream Pie Toaster Strudel without gagging. I’ve always been motivated by my hunger—for food and money—so when I was 14 I decided to spend the summer pollinating corn for minimum wage. The Boston Cream Pie Toaster Strudel was my ideal breakfast food back then, and I ate it every morning before heading out to the fields. Now it literally disgusts me (almost as much as the fact that I was convinced to work in a cornfield for $7 an hour as a teenager, aka child labor).
I could look back on my life through normal milestones, like finishing a school year, but my brain prefers to categorize chapters by food hyperfixations. There’s evidence of this starting early on in my journals and Spotify playlist titles named after my favorite snacks: dark chocolate covered pretzels, olives, summer sausage. It’s taken me a long time to figure out, but I now know why food controlled the majority of my thoughts. Spoiler alert: It wasn’t all due to me being a Taurus.
My diagnoses have varied in accuracy as I’ve sought mental health treatment since childhood, but the truth was always there. My mom, struggling to raise her sensory-sensitive toddler (food texture included), went to see a professional. The physician sent her on her way with a copy of Raising Your Spirited Child. (This book from the '90s was infamously used to help parents of undiagnosed autistic kids without outwardly labeling it, due to the stigma that came with having an autistic kid.)
After being prescribed birth control at 14 for depression, trial and error with various SSRIs or mood stabilizers, an incorrect bipolar disorder diagnosis in college, and a case of burnout as I started my professional career, my answer was finally uncovered at 25: I’m now diagnosed with autism spectrum disorder and ADHD, also known as AuDHD. Getting this diagnosis felt different because it felt right. And while not much research has been done on the relationship between eating habits and autism, emerging studies show it has a noticeable impact throughout adulthood—requiring individuals to learn how to adapt.
"Individuals with ADHD and autism often face distinct challenges with food due to sensory sensitivities, executive functioning difficulties, and unique dopamine responses," says Tonya Hotchkin, therapist, certified trauma and resilience practitioner, and vice president of clinical services at Tanager Place. "These factors can contribute to selective eating and a higher risk of eating disorders."
Odds weren’t in my favor given my brain chemistry and growing up as a girl in early-2000s diet culture. But when I started treating my ADHD, the disordered habits faded quietly until I realized my life no longer revolved around them. To me, this was a sign that I was finally addressing the root of my problems.
This clarity has brought me equal parts relief and grief: Food has been a key player in the darker points of my life, but I can confidently say that with time and knowledge, it has become something additive that enhances moments. If this sounds overly ambitious with where you are currently, then indifference toward food is possible, too—a concept past versions of me would never believe.
There is hope in knowing that with time and the right strategies, food can enhance well-being and bring positive experiences into daily life.
Before I offer any words of advice, know that what has worked for me may not work for you. Generic, inspirational phrases are typically not relatable for a neurodivergent mindset: As my therapist likes to tell me, you can’t force square pegs to fit in round holes. If the food blogger teaching you how to meal prep doesn’t experience executive dysfunction, you’ll probably end up frustrated at your inability to follow her suggested plan. If any tips resonate, feel free to try them out or see if you can alter them to work with your lifestyle.
"Navigating food challenges with ADHD and autism can be daunting, but with understanding and compassion, it's possible to turn food into a source of wellness and joy," Hotchkin says. "By recognizing the unique sensory and emotional needs of individuals with AuDHD, we can create supportive environments that promote healthy eating habits. There is hope in knowing that with time and the right strategies, food can enhance well-being and bring positive experiences into daily life."
Identify your safe foods and always keep them nearby.
Safe foods can be consistent throughout your lifetime or they can change with the seasons. That Boston Cream Pie Toaster Strudel was once a safe food for me, and now it’s banned from my freezer. (Pancheros burritos have stood the test of time.)
It’s smart to keep at-home safe foods stockpiled for bad days, along with figuring out which you can get at nearby restaurants. I suggest finding a few from spots that offer mobile ordering or contactless delivery if you're not in the mood for human interaction. At-home safe foods can vary in difficulty to make, but some should require minimal effort prepping and cleaning up.
Snacks always leave the house with you.
I try my best to have a sensory kit with me wherever I go. It can be tricky identifying why you're feeling dysregulated, and if food is out of sight, hunger can be out of mind. Keeping a filling, nutritious snack on you can be the ticket to preventing a meltdown. Life is unpredictable—if you’re out later than you planned to feed yourself, you can at least predict having something to hold you over.
Stock up a fishing tackle box.
This ADHD-friendly hack involves filling all the dividers of a fishing tackle box with different snacks and keeping it in your fridge at all times. Try to include all of the food groups so you can get as many nutrients as possible if it ends up replacing a meal.
It’s easier for people with ADHD to forget to eat or to feel unable to pause their work to cook up an elaborate lunch. The snack box is meant to alleviate time transitioning between tasks and removes the decision fatigue of choosing what to eat. For those who regularly find themselves skipping an entire meal, getting something in your body is better than nothing.
If you have a support system, recruit a body double on the days you’re struggling.
Body doubling is a neurodivergent love language—it can make completing tasks so much easier. The presence of another human you trust can add a layer of non-judgmental perception to your environment, which eases getting into a productive mindset. It can be hard to not feel like a burden, so I typically explain that I’m not looking for help doing the actual task and encourage my body double to work on completing a task of their own at the same time.
Remind yourself that you can say no to trying new foods.
I've found it’s a common experience for a well-meaning person to insist I try a homemade meal or snack, even after nicely turning them down. If they aren’t taking no for an answer, it feels even more uncomfortable to name your very personal medical diagnosis as your reasoning.
Because telling a little white lie out of politeness didn't cross my mind for most of my life, I wasn't aware it was an option. Know you have permission to tell anyone shoving a mystery pastry your way that you’re allergic. Don't be afraid to make these made-up societal rules of what's rude and what's not work with you and not against you.
Study menus ahead of time.
We all know the struggle of picking a place when it comes to coordinating dinner plans with friends. Try to get everyone to at least narrow it down to a few options you can look up ahead of time so you're not going in completely blind.
If you’re not feeling up to suggesting alternatives but know you won’t find anything at the chosen destination, it’s time to practice a little fibbing again: You can feed yourself ahead of time and still join for a drink or dessert. Depending on how close you all are, they’ll either be understanding or you can make something up if they ask why you're not getting an entree.
Be open to trying new things, but don’t entirely switch up your regular order.
Existing in a mind with ADHD and autism sometimes means feeling like two sides of you are never fully satisfied—my ADHD craves novelty but my autism loves monotony.
To compromise when going out to eat, I’ll try something new while ensuring part of my order is tried and true. I recommend spicing it up with a different side or appetizer and ordering a reliable main dish. If you don’t end up liking what you try, at least you didn’t sacrifice the entirety of your meal. Depending on the relationship you have with the person you’re dining with, they could be willing to let you try what they got.
When trying new recipes, find resources that provide visual and written instructions.
If there’s a video component, watch it before buying the ingredients. This gives you an inclination on how much effort is involved. Try to be realistic with yourself based on your energy levels when you plan to make it—if you were aiming to cook a multi-step meal the evening after a meeting-packed day of work, you should probably save it for the weekend.