As a child psychologist—and a mom—I’ve heard it all: “She only eats white foods.” “He says noodles feel weird.” One parent told me their child will only eat if the food doesn’t touch. Another said their son insists on inspecting every bite like it’s been poisoned. I’ve been there too—sometimes with a fork in one hand and a prayer in the other.
At first glance, picky eating feels like a universal parenting rite of passage. And in most cases, it is developmentally normal. But sometimes, it’s more than just a kid with strong opinions about chicken nuggets. That’s where ARFID comes in. Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder might sound like a mouthful (pun intended), but it’s actually a very real eating disorder that can seriously impact a child’s growth, health, and family life.
So let’s talk about what ARFID is, how you can tell the difference between it and garden-variety picky eating, and what you can do to support your child when mealtimes feel like a battleground.
What Is ARFID, Anyway?
ARFID—short for Avoidant/Restrictive Food Intake Disorder—is a diagnosis given to individuals (often kids) who avoid or restrict food intake for reasons other than body image. So unlike anorexia or bulimia, children with ARFID aren’t trying to lose weight or change how they look. They’re avoiding food because something about it feels off or threatening—maybe the texture, the smell, the fear of choking, or even just a lack of interest in food altogether.
Some kids are ultra-sensitive to textures and tastes. Others might have had one scary experience with choking or vomiting and now avoid foods that feel even remotely risky. And then there are children who just genuinely never feel hungry or excited to eat. They’re not being dramatic. This isn’t about willpower or stubbornness—it’s about anxiety, discomfort, or a system that’s just wired a little differently.
How Do I Know if It’s ARFID or Just Picky Eating?
This is the million-dollar question. Because let’s be honest—most kids are a little picky at some point. But with ARFID, we see something more persistent and more disruptive.
Kids with ARFID often have very limited diets, sometimes fewer than ten foods. New foods aren’t just rejected—they’re scary. Meals might come with tears, meltdowns, or flat-out refusal. Some children start to lose weight, fall off their growth curve, or show signs of vitamin deficiencies. Others avoid social activities that involve food—birthday parties, sleepovers, school lunches—because the anxiety around eating is so intense.
And as a parent, you might feel like you’re walking on eggshells every mealtime, planning and prepping like a short-order chef, only to have your lovingly prepared plate pushed away. It’s exhausting, I know. You might also find yourself googling things like “how to sneak vegetables into muffins” at 2 a.m. Sound familiar?
How Can I Help My Child With ARFID?
First and foremost, give yourself some grace. If this has been a hard, emotional, confusing experience—it’s because it isall of those things. You’re not failing, and your child isn’t being difficult on purpose. ARFID is a real disorder, and the good news is that there are ways to help.
Getting support from a mental health professional who understands ARFID can make a huge difference. Therapy may involve gentle exposures to new foods, helping your child build tolerance and confidence over time. Sometimes it means working through past scary experiences, and sometimes it’s about helping the whole family create a calmer, less pressured relationship with food.
At home, your role becomes that of a calm, encouraging guide. We want to create structure and predictability around meals without turning them into high-stress events. That means no bribing, no “just one bite” battles, and definitely no hiding food like a culinary magician. Kids need to feel safe at the table, not ambushed.
I often encourage families to track small wins. Did your child lick a carrot? Smell a new food? Sit at the table with a food they usually avoid? That’s progress. And progress with ARFID can be slow—but it is still progress.
Another helpful approach is to involve your child in food-related tasks in non-threatening ways. Let them pick out fruit at the grocery store, help you cook, or plate the food. Giving them a sense of ownership can reduce anxiety and boost their willingness to engage—even if they don’t eat the food right away.
And most importantly: don’t make food the center of your relationship. Meals should be about connection. Play music. Chat about their day. Keep it light. A kid who feels emotionally safe is more likely to be open to new experiences. Including food.
A Final Word (from a Psychologist-Mom Who Gets It)
If you’re in the thick of it, please know—this isn’t your fault. Your child isn’t choosing this. And you don’t have to navigate it alone.
I’ve worked with families where a child’s diet consisted of crackers and maybe a yogurt on a good day. And over time—with the right support, some patience, and a whole lot of sticker charts—those same kids learned to expand their food world. No, they didn’t turn into adventurous foodies overnight. But they ate. They grew. They felt proud of themselves. And that’s what matters.
So whether your child is surviving off buttered noodles and dry cereal, or you’ve been tempted to cry at the dinner table yourself—just know that help is out there. One brave bite at a time.
And hey, if all else fails… thank goodness for smoothies.
