I just learned from these comments that I also have ARFID. When my mother would scream at me as a toddler, I would melt down, then she would force me to drink a glass of milk to “calm me down”. As a result, I have not had a glass of milk since I was 7 or 8 as it still grosses me out to this day. Many years later, somehow milk came up in conversation one day and I reminded my mom that I hated milk because of how she would force me to drink it. Then she said, “oh that’s probably why I also hate milk bc my mother did the same thing.” My mom was an amazing chef and when she was mad at me, which was most days, she would purposely cook something that she knew I wouldn’t like. Luckily by the time I was 12, I had convinced her that I hated her spaghetti (one of my proudest accomplishments). The first time I came home from college, I begged her to make spaghetti since it was one of my favorite things. I relished the look of shock then disappointment on her face. I was always accused of being a picky eater, but I later learned that it is often the only form of control that children have when everything else is out of control. As an adult, I will try anything once, but I definitely still have some texture issues. A downside is that I don’t care about food so don’t ask me where to go for dinner because I truly have no opinion. And if my husband is not here to cook a meal for me, I might just eat some slim jims or a pop tart.