Let’s Abolish The Phrase “Picky Eater”

In my work with parents who are caring for a child with an eating disorder, I’ve become keenly aware of the language we use when talking about kids and food. Our words can shape our attitudes and beliefs, our identities and anxieties. And the familiar phrase “picky eating” — with its undertones of disapproval and even blame — has always left a bad taste in my mouth.

“Picky eating” lacks an actual definition and is so vague it can describe a child who isn’t a fan of bitter vegetables, one who isn’t getting enough nourishment to grow, and everything in between. It’s become an abstract you-know-it-when-you-see-it phenomenon. But because our current perceptions of pickiness are so heavily shaped by diet culture and ableism, almost no family feels like they’re measuring up.

We’ve come a long way since the days of routinely categorizing foods as “good” or “bad.” But with an increasing focus on avoiding or addressing so-called pickiness, I worry we have simply shifted from vilifying foods to vilifying children themselves.

“I don’t believe there is any such thing as a picky eater because we are autonomous people and we are all entitled to our flavor and texture preferences,” says Dani Lebovitz, a pediatric registered dietitian based in Nashville. “If a child doesn’t want to eat something or they say they don’t like something, it’s not because they’re picky. They’re learning about their taste buds, their flavor preferences, and texture preferences.”

We honor adults’ idiosyncratic food selections all the time — watch anyone order a drink at Starbucks — but we’ve been taught to be suspicious and critical of children’s tastes.

Kids aren’t choosing to be choosy.

Perhaps the most pernicious myth about picky eating is that a manipulative child is exploiting weak, permissive parents. “It’s a loaded term that implies it’s potentially a hostile choice or an acting-out of some kind,” says Vera Hough, a mother of four in New Jersey who vividly recalls her own eating differences as a child. “I definitely was on no level looking for attention, trying to make trouble for other people, getting extra work out of other people. I literally was frightened and threatened and disturbed by the tastes and textures of a lot of foods.”

Her parents were able to respond to her sensory needs in ways some feeding influencers might criticize as catering to a child’s unreasonable demands. “When my mother made grilled cheese for everyone for lunch, she made me a tuna fish sandwich, and I ate it in the car in the garage, so that I did not have to smell everyone else’s grilled cheese. My mother accommodated these things. They did all the things you’re supposed to do in terms of offering things from time to time but didn’t make a big deal or a power play out of it.”

It’s time to ditch the parent blame.

While Hough feels grateful her needs were met and she wasn’t shamed for her way of eating, she developed a whole new perspective on feeding challenges when her youngest child struggled to eat after experiencing medical trauma. Even though she knew her son’s barriers to eating were not her fault, she still felt the sting of stigma and unrealistic expectations. “For some reason, it’s a mother’s entire responsibility to get her child to eat. And, by the way, doctors make you feel like sh*t about that.”

This immense pressure on parents, especially moms, to orchestrate some version of idealized eating is not only unrealistic but counterproductive. “When a child’s eating is painted as a problem, parents are charged with fixing it. And it can become a source of extreme stress, as the label ‘picky’ typically implies that the child is being stubborn or they’re being difficult by choice,” says Naureen Hunani, a registered dietitian in Montréal who specializes in working with neurodivergent children and their families.

Despite what social media brag posts or your aunt’s side-eye might lead you to believe, the way children eat “is not a gauge of the quality of parenting that you are doing. Some kids just struggle with food, and it has nothing to do with parenting. It’s actually heavily influenced by genetics,” notes Taylor Arnold, Ph.D., a pediatric dietitian in Gilbert, Arizona. A robust twin study recently provided strong evidence that a child’s approach to food is largely innate.

Parents aren’t to blame for a child’s eating challenges, but at the same time, we aren’t powerless, either. By rejecting conventional ideas about picky eating, we actually have a better chance of fostering a positive relationship with food.

The label can obscure the real reason a kid struggles with food.

False assumptions about pickiness not only fuel guilt and tension but can also mask what could really be going on for a child. “Our kids are communicating to us that there’s something they’re struggling with, whether they’re overstimulated, their sensory needs are not being met, whether it hurts to swallow, whether they have a stomachache because they’re constipated. And if we see a kid as picky, we could be missing things,” says Arnold.

When parents have a gut feeling an underlying physiological or neurological difference may be a factor in their child’s eating patterns, even medical providers can make the mistake of dismissing the behaviors as a “picky-eating” phase. Well-meaning pediatricians have even suggested parents withhold a child’s preferred foods and present only “healthier” options under the false assumption that no child will starve. Tell that to a family whose kid ends up needing a feeding tube.

“We know there are children who would rather starve than eat something that they have such an aversion to. In the moment, that is what makes them feel safest,” says Hunani.

And because diet culture makes us think only certain kinds of strong preferences are problematic, it’s easy for parents and doctors to miss early warning signs of anorexia or other eating disorders. Children who become particular about the perceived healthiness of food are more likely to be praised than be assessed for eating problems.

Diet culture does not help.

In the same way dieting can scramble your relationship with food, diet culture can interfere with how you interpret your kid’s eating. We’re exposed to constant clickbait headlines about counting protein grams or avoiding packaged food, especially the kind of snacks and convenience foods that are geared toward children and families.

Of course, the very things most demonized in diet and wellness culture are the foods many kids find most palatable — all the green muffin recipes and TikTok fear-mongering in the world won’t change this. As the gap between what kids are comfortable eating and what parents are comfortable serving widens, too many families feel like there is practically nothing safe for their kids to eat.

For anyone who is currently worried about their child’s preference for beige foods, let what Arnold told me reassure you: “Your kid can still be healthy and get all the nutrients they need if they eat zero vegetables. I’m not saying we should never try for vegetables, but I think what social media tells parents that their kids need to eat to be healthy is extreme.”

Resisting new foods is normal.

Even though it’s well-established that most kids between the ages of 2 and 7 go through a natural developmental stage of food neophobia and increased resistance at meals, fears about picky eating make many parents needlessly panic during this phase — even those who are experts in nutrition.

When San Diego-based eating disorder dietitian Tammy Manse noticed her first child began refusing certain foods as a toddler, it raised both her maternal and professional anxiety. “Now, I know it’s normal for them to push away or resist certain foods. But at the time, I was definitely feeling like my kid needs to eat healthy. You know, I’m a dietitian. This can’t be happening. I did all the right things; I gave him the vegetables first.”

While she has compassion for her past self, she regrets trying to override her son’s developmental and sensory needs in an attempt to reshape his eating behavior in the image of an idealized “healthy eater.” Applying tips she learned from a picky eating seminar added stress and didn’t result in expanded variety or openness to eating; in fact, it made things feel worse. So she started taking a different approach.

“I was very cognizant of the language I was using. I started using the term ‘selective.’ I gave him more space. There was no pressure, and I don’t know whether what I did helped or if it was just him maturing, but he definitely tries more foods and eats more foods.”

We all know pressure backfires.

Manse’s experience is a common one, as parental efforts to “solve” picky eating can end up backfiring because pressure only makes it harder for a child to feel safe to eat. Forcing “one bite to be polite” or restricting preferred foods can have unintended consequences.

While today’s parents have largely unsubscribed from the Clean Plate Club, concerns about picky eating can drive more subtle forms of adult pressure at the table: praising kids for eating certain foods, detailing specific health benefits of vegetables, and bribing in the form of “earning” dessert, screen time, or other rewards.

Many of these strategies may appear to “work” in the short term but come at a cost. We probably didn’t need a study to show that being forced to eat a particular food as a child makes it less likely you will eat that food as an adult. What looks like progress in the moment may really be just compliance. “Calling a child picky can induce the feeling of shame or guilt, like their preference is a problem. And when people feel like a problem to be fixed, they learn to eat things to please other people instead of learning about themselves,” says Lebovitz.

Assigning a negative label like picky to a child can affect what Arnold calls a child’s “eating identity.” Being labeled in this way doesn’t create an invitation to explore, notes Lebovitz. “It can make the child and the parent see the way they eat as a fixed trait, and that can often be a self-fulfilling prophecy.”

What’s more, being criticized as picky can affect a child’s sense of belonging and acceptance within their family. “People don’t realize that the child being called picky for years and years creates a lot of shame and embarrassment around eating, and reinforces a sense that something is inherently wrong with them,” adds Hunani.

Alternatives to “picky”?

The problem is that picky eating functions, for now, as the most practical umbrella term for something not feeling right at meals, and it can help a family find much-needed support. “It’s like a Catch-22,” says Arnold, who offers a free picky eating course. “I don’t like it, but I need to use it to reach parents who are looking for help.”

Lebovitz says that although she consciously avoids using the term “picky” in her work (likely costing her algorithmic-based Internet traffic), it’s often the phrase parents use when they reach out to her for guidance.

Hunani sees the term’s familiarity as a bridge to getting support. “Having shared language is really important so we can understand each other, but I do think it’s important to offer the opportunity to reframe and offer alternatives.”

As for the alternatives, Manse found it helpful to see her son as a “selective” eater, and it’s a term many other parents and professionals use because it has a more neutral or even positive connotation. (After all, our culture loves selectivity when it comes to things like college admissions.)

But not everyone sees “selective” as a useful replacement. “It may seem less pathologizing, and at the same time, it may not resonate with everyone,” adds Hunani. “I have reframed picky eating as attuned eating. [As in,] the child is attuned to their needs.” She finds that “attuned” tends to help parents, too — the term also captures the idea of parents listening to their child’s needs rather than external notions of what eating should look like. Hunani adds that terms like “sensory eating” and “feeding difference” also work well for a lot of her patients and their families.

Reframing the way we conceptualize our kids’ eating can help tune out the noise and really tune in to what our children are communicating. And that deeper connection can be a powerful ingredient for more peaceful, joyful meals, which will look different for every family. As Lebovitz puts it, “There is never a one-size-fits-all. There’s no one best way. So follow what serves you, and listen to what your kids have to say.”

Oona Hanson is a writer, educator, and parent coach who specializes in helping families navigate diet culture and eating disorders. A mother of two, she lives in Los Angeles with her husband.