When food is your ride-or-die for two weeks… until it ghosts you.

I don’t fall in love often—but when I do, it’s usually with a snack. A drink. A cereal. A very specific sandwich from one very specific place that I will eat exclusively for 14 days straight like it holds the secrets of the universe and contains all the nutrients my body will ever need. During these passionate food affairs, I become a creature of pure obsession—calculating how many times per day I can reasonably consume my chosen item without judgment, researching the optimal preparation methods, and feeling genuinely excited about meal times in a way that probably isn’t normal for a grown adult. I’ll stock up like I’m preparing for the apocalypse, filling my cart with multiples of the same item while cashiers give me curious looks that I interpret as admiration for my decisive shopping skills. And then? I ghost. Cold turkey. No warning, no closure, no gradual tapering off—just me and my shame in aisle 5, pretending I never knew that Creamsicle shake, avoiding eye contact with the 47 cans of soup I can no longer stomach, and wondering why my brain treats food like a series of intense but doomed romantic relationships.
What Is Hyperfixation Cuisine?

It’s the culinary equivalent of a summer fling. You’re obsessed. You plan your day around it. You talk about it to anyone who will listen (and a few who won’t). You buy in bulk. And then one morning, like a cursed love spell wearing off, it’s done. You’re left with a pantry full of raisin bran and the haunting echoes of a snack you no longer want to eat.
Neurodivergent folks—those of us with ADHD, autism, or both—know this dance well. It’s not a food phase; it’s a full-blown romantic arc.
And science backs us up!
Let’s sneak in some facts while we laugh about it:
- Hyperfixation on foods is super common in neurodivergent folks (ADHD, autism, OCD, etc.). It’s not just “being picky”—it’s how our brains work.
- It’s a mix of sensory comfort, routine, and dopamine payoff. That food becomes the reliable good thing—until your brain randomly decides it isn’t anymore, with zero explanation or warning.
- Sometimes it’s about control in a world full of chaos: “I know exactly what I’m eating. I know what it tastes like. No surprises. No emotional labor. No decisions beyond ‘yes, this again.'”
- But then, suddenly… betrayal. Like Raisin Bran. You were the breakfast of my dreams for three solid weeks. And now? Just cardboard and broken promises, sitting in my pantry like evidence of my neurological fickleness.
A Few Past Lovers (aka: My Personal Hyperfixation Food Phases)
- Creamsicle shakes (RIP, my frosty muse)
- Raisin Bran (?? still not sure how that happened)
- Microwavable rice and sausages (because sweet peppers and sausage are awesome)
- Spicy chips (emotionally turbulent, 11/10 would return someday)
- Anything with pesto (until my body mutinied and now pesto is dead to me)
So What Do We Do About It?
Is This “Healthy”? Depends Who You Ask.

Nutritionists would say variety is key. But also? Survival. Joy. Convenience. These are not small things. And if eating the same 3 things on rotation keeps your body going through a rough patch? That’s not failure—that’s strategy.
Plus, it always changes eventually. Usually when you least expect it. Often mid-bite.
Honestly? Laugh. Embrace it. Maybe write a heartfelt goodbye letter to your former food flame. (“Dear Bagel Bites, we had some good times. I’m sorry I abandoned you half-eaten in the freezer door.”)
You don’t have to force variety or shame yourself for what your brain finds comforting. Just make sure you stay fed, hydrated, and somewhat functional. And if one day you find yourself suddenly obsessed with cucumbers in vinegar, just know: you’re not alone.

What was your last food fling? Let me know so I don’t feel like the only one who once ate eleven bowls of raisin bran in one week.
And to all the forgotten snacks still lurking in my pantry…
I loved you once. I swear I did, lol. Til next time gang, take care of yourselves

























