- Jan 15, 2025
When food becomes the enemy: A missing perspective in autism and trauma
The conversation around “trauma-informed” practices is everywhere these days. From schools to therapy to nutrition, there’s a growing awareness that our past experiences shape how we navigate nearly every part of life - including our relationship with food. But when I tried to find information about how food itself can be a source of trauma, especially for autistic individuals, I came up empty-handed.
Most of the discussion around trauma-informed nutrition focuses on how trauma impacts eating habits: emotional eating, losing touch with hunger cues, or stress-related digestive issues. While these are important topics, they miss a crucial point - how food and the act of eating can actually cause trauma, particularly for autistic and neurodivergent people.
This isn’t a small or isolated issue. For many autistic individuals, myself included, food doesn’t always provide comfort or nourishment. Instead, it can feel like an ongoing battle. So why aren’t we talking about this? And what needs to change to start addressing it?
Why, in my opinion, this perspective is overlooked
1. Nutrition centers on the “average” person
Most nutrition research is geared toward what works for the “average” individual. Unfortunately, this broad approach doesn’t account for the unique needs of autistic people. Things like heightened sensory sensitivities, distinct metabolic processes and different interoceptive experiences often don’t fit neatly into the standard frameworks - even in autism-specific care.
2. Trauma and nutrition rarely overlap
Trauma research mainly focuses on emotional wounds, while nutrition tends to stick to the science of biochemistry. The two fields rarely intersect, leaving a huge gap in understanding how food and eating itself can be traumatic for certain groups, including autistic individuals.
3. Society misunderstands autistic food challenges
When autistic people struggle with food, it’s often dismissed as “picky eating.” This label diminishes the very real distress we experience and makes it harder to explore food-related trauma in meaningful ways.
A framework for understanding food-related trauma in autism
To address this, we need to better understand how food can become a source of trauma for autistic individuals. Here’s one way to approach it:
Sensory overload as an internal experience
When people hear “sensory overload,” they usually think of external factors - textures, smells or tastes. While these are part of the experience, it’s my experience that the deeper discomfort often comes from within: nausea, anxiety, cold sweats, blurry vision, tingling sensations and more.
For many of us, it’s not just the food itself that’s overwhelming but rather the body’s internal chemical reactions. These reactions can create such intense sensations that they leave us feeling disconnected from our surroundings - and even from ourselves.
Dysautonomia and the nervous system
This internal discomfort isn’t just a matter of “physical annoyance.” It’s often tied to dysautonomia, a condition where the nervous system struggles to regulate basic functions like heart rate, digestion or blood pressure.
When certain foods worsen symptoms like heart palpitations, nausea or dizziness, the body begins to feel unpredictable and unsafe. This lack of control over our own physical state can be deeply traumatising.
Alexithymia and the struggle to understand our bodies
For many autistic people, it’s not just about feeling what’s happening in the body (interoception); it’s about not having the words to describe or make sense of it. This is where alexithymia - difficulty identifying and expressing emotions or physical sensations - comes into play.
Without a clear understanding of what’s happening, we’re left to endure cycles of overwhelming experiences with no explanation. Certain foods, like those that trigger inflammation or histamine reactions, can add fuel to this fire, leaving the nervous system stuck in a constant state of alarm.
Changing the conversation
If we want real change, we need to move beyond oversimplifications like “autistic people are just picky eaters.” It’s time to start listening to the deeper, less obvious struggles that many of us face with food.
The trauma of feeling unsafe in your own body is profound. It’s not enough to ask how trauma affects eating habits; we also need to ask:
• How do sensory and biochemical differences turn food into a source of trauma?
• How can we reframe nutrition to help us work with our bodies instead of against them?
• How do we amplify autistic voices to guide this conversation?
Moving forward
Food isn’t just fuel. For autistic people, it can also be a source of trauma. And yet, most discussions around trauma-informed nutrition fail to consider how the act of eating itself can traumatize.
This isn’t just an academic oversight; it’s a failure to address the significant challenges many of us face when food no longer feels safe.
Let’s start a new kind of conversation - one that moves past surface-level answers and digs into the lived realities of autistic individuals.
What does food feel like for you? What’s missing from the discussion? Let’s figure this out together.