I Was the Picky Kid: What I Wish People Understood About Selective Eating
I don't remember becoming a picky eater . I just remember being one.
Some of my earliest memories around food are not about family meals or favorite recipes. They are about worry. I remember feeling anxious before going to restaurants because I wasn't sure if there would be something I could eat. My preferred order was usually chicken nuggets and fries, and if those weren't available, I immediately started wondering what my options would be and if someone would notice my worry.
As a child, that felt like a really big deal!
I have memories like my grandmother talking about how much my cousin looovved her homemade green beans (*squirms in seat). I know she was wasn't trying to make me feel bad. But as a kid, I internalized that comparison. There were kids who were "good eaters," and then there was me. I wanted to crawl in a hole.
If I could have chosen to love every food that other people seemed to enjoy, I would have.
P.S. I hate saying “picky” - it’s so negative. I prefer “selective eater.”
Picky eating is not a choice
One of the biggest misconceptions about selective eating is that it is a choice. There is a long-standing belief that children are picky because they are being difficult, stubborn, or because they have learned they can “get away with it.”
Many of us grew up hearing things like, "You'll eat it if you're hungry enough," or "Eat it or you aren't leaving the table." Some people say, "I didn't have the option to be picky when I was a kid."
I understand where these messages came from. Many parents and caregivers were doing what they thought was helpful based on what they had been taught.
But for many children and adults with selective eating, the experience is not about refusing food or trying to be challenging. In fact, many people who struggle with picky eating wish food felt easier.
Selective eating can be influenced by sensory experiences, anxiety, temperament, neurodivergence, past experiences with food, or the way someone's body responds to certain textures, smells, and flavors.
My experience with picky eating changed as I got older
The part that surprises people is that I don't really consider myself a picky eater anymore. Over time, my palate expanded. I became more comfortable trying new foods, exploring different cuisines, and being more flexible with eating. Today, I actually consider myself an adventurous eater. Which isn’t morally better or worse. Just a fact.
There are still foods that give me that same immediate reaction . Certain textures, smells, or flavors still make my brain and body say, "No thank you."
The difference now is that I don't feel ashamed of that.
I understand that having food preferences is part of being human. Enjoying certain foods and not enjoying others does not make someone immature, difficult, or unhealthy.
Why picky eating can feel so isolating
When people talk about picky eating, the conversation often focuses only on the food. But many selective eaters carry memories of how other people responded to their eating. I know I do.
They remember being the child whose plate was commented on. They remember feeling embarrassed at restaurants. They remember feeling like they were disappointing someone who cooked for them. The shame becomes the hardest part.
Picky eating support for children, teens, and adults
As an eating disorder dietitian in Northern Virginia, I support clients who are navigating picky eating, selective eating, food anxiety, and ARFID (Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder).
At Embrace Nutrition Counseling, I work with clients throughout Virginia, including Loudoun County and surrounding Northern Virginia communities, who want support building a more comfortable relationship with food.
The goal is not to force foods or create a "perfect eater." I know what it feels like to sit at a table and feel like everyone is noticing what is on your plate. I know what it feels like to wish eating came more naturally. I know how quickly comments about food can turn into shame.
Here we focus on understanding someone's experience, reducing that shame, and finding ways to support nourishment.