Life is full of reminders—some gentle, others a little less so. For me, one of the most consistent reminders comes in the form of a simple, loving question from my mom: “Have you eaten today?” On the surface, it’s a small inquiry. But beneath it lies a deep concern, one that I fully understand, even if I sometimes want to roll my eyes at the persistence of it.

As a neurodivergent person, I’ve learned that the seemingly simple act of eating regularly—something most people take for granted—can feel like climbing a mountain. It’s not a physical barrier; it’s a mental and emotional one. Executive functioning, energy levels, and even sensory preferences often play tug-of-war, making the discipline of eating when I need to a challenge I constantly grapple with.

If you’re neurodivergent, you might relate to this struggle. Even with an acute awareness of what I need to do—nourish my body, maintain my energy, and show myself basic care—there’s often a gap between knowing and doing. It’s not laziness or a lack of care; it’s just how some of our brains are wired. And the truth is, self-care isn’t always intuitive. Sometimes, it requires systems, gentle accountability, and compassion.

Finding Strategies That Work

Over time, I’ve found a few approaches that help bridge that gap between awareness and action. These strategies aren’t universal, but they’ve been valuable for me:

1. Linking Eating to Routine

Instead of relying on hunger cues—which can be unreliable—I tie meals to habits I already have. For example, if I make coffee in the morning, I’ll pair it with a simple cereal breakfast. Wrapping up work becomes a cue for preparing dinner. By associating eating with other rituals, I take the decision-making out of the process.

2. Removing Barriers

Decision fatigue can be overwhelming, especially when it comes to “what should I eat?” To sidestep this, I keep simple, sensory-friendly foods on hand—things that require little preparation or are easy to grab on a busy day. Meal-prepping snacks or having pre-portioned options can make a big difference.

3. Timers and Alarms

Setting reminders, like an alarm for lunch on my phone or other devices, has been a lifesaver. These aren’t just alarms—they’re acts of self-kindness, small nudges to prioritize myself amid the noise of daily life.

4. Reframing the Act of Eating

Instead of viewing eating as just another task on an endless to-do list, I try to reframe it as self-care, a gift to future-me. When I nourish my body, I’m investing in my energy, focus, and well-being—not just for today but for the days ahead.

The Role of Community and Accountability

This is where people like my mom come in. While the instinct might be to bristle at her reminders, I know they’re born from love. And truthfully, her care helps keep me accountable in ways I struggle to do alone. We all need people in our corner, even if their concern feels like a nudge we don’t always want.

If you’re someone who struggles with this too, consider inviting a trusted friend or family member into the process. Their reminders don’t have to feel intrusive—they can be a way to feel seen and supported. And if you’re someone reminding a loved one to eat, know that your care matters, even if it’s met with a little resistance.

Extending Grace to Ourselves

Ultimately, the challenge of eating regularly isn’t just about food—it’s about learning to care for ourselves in a way that feels sustainable and kind. For neurodivergent people, that care might look different than for others, and that’s okay. It’s not about perfection; it’s about progress.