The Autistic Way of Eating: Comfort, Consistency, and Enoughness

08
Sep

The Autistic Way of Eating: Comfort, Consistency, and Enoughness

By Michelle Labine, PhD

September 2025

If I lived alone, I’d probably eat the same three things over and over: crackers, eggs, maybe a smoothie on a good day. Not because I lack imagination, but because it’s simple, predictable, and doesn’t overwhelm my senses.

But I don’t live alone. I have a family, and that means cooking. Not because it’s my passion, but because people need to be fed. These days I even meal prep not to become some sort of Instagram-worthy kitchen wizard, but because it’s one of the few ways I can keep food predictable and less stressful.

Still, my relationship with food has always been very…Autistic.

Why Eating Can Be Hard (Even If I “Can” Cook)

Autistic eating is about managing a body and brain that experience food differently.

  • Textures matter. I can love a food in one form and completely reject it in another. Smooth peanut butter? Perfect. Peanut butter with chunks? Absolutely not.
  • Repetition feels safe. Having the same meal on repeat is comforting. It’s one less decision in a world already full of decision fatigue.
  • Smells can be overwhelming. A strong spice or an unfamiliar sauce can be enough to shut down my appetite.
  • Snack plates are life. A few simple foods side by side, nothing touching.

Ketchup on Everything

One of the most surprising (and oddly comforting) parts of parenting while Autistic is noticing where my children mirror me. For me and one of my kids, the shared bond is simple: ketchup on everything.

Ketchup is predictable, familiar, and safe. It takes the edge off textures that might otherwise be overwhelming. It makes food feel reliable. For both of us, that squeeze of ketchup is an anchor.

When I glance at our plates and see that splash of red on both, I feel seen. It’s our quiet love language, a way of saying, “I get you.” In a world where food can be stressful, ketchup is connection.

The Pressure of “Food Culture”

So much of society romanticizes cooking and eating adventurous palates, long dinners, elaborate recipes. But for me, eating has never been about adventure. It’s about safety, nourishment, and peace.

Sometimes that means politely declining the fancy new dish. Sometimes it means eating something familiar while everyone else tries something different. And sometimes it means sitting with the quiet guilt of not meeting “normal” food expectations.

But here’s the truth: there is no “normal.” There’s only what works for your body.

Why Meal Prepping Helps

For me, meal prepping is about reducing stress. When I know what’s waiting in the fridge:

  • I don’t have to scramble at the last minute.
  • I know it’s food my body will accept.
  • I get to lean into predictability instead of decision overload.

It may not look glamorous. But it’s how I can show up for myself and for my family.

What I Want Other Autistic Folks to Know

If you’ve ever felt “too picky,” “too boring,” or “too rigid” with food you’re not alone. Autistic eating is not a failure; it’s a different way of navigating the sensory world.

Your routines, your safe foods, your need for consistency are adaptations and how you care for yourself. And that, to me, is a kind of nourishment all its own.

Michelle Labine