AITAH For Telling My Mom Her Cooking Makes Me Sick
Let me start by saying I love my mom. She’s been my rock through everything, and I know she puts her heart into cooking for our family. But here’s the brutal truth – her food literally makes me sick. After years of stomachaches, nausea, and embarrassing bathroom emergencies, I finally told her the truth last week. Now our relationship is strained, and I’m wondering… am I the asshole here?
The Food Sensitivity Struggle
This isn’t about disliking her cooking – it’s about physical reactions I can’t control. For years, I’d get bloated within 30 minutes of eating her meals. The cramps feel like someone’s twisting my intestines, and I’ll spend the next two hours glued to the toilet. At first I thought it was in my head, but when I started tracking my meals, the pattern was undeniable.
My doctor suspects IBS triggered by certain ingredients she uses heavily – especially garlic, onions, and heavy oils. When I eat at restaurants or cook for myself? No issues. At mom’s house? Guaranteed digestive disaster.
The Breaking Point
Everything came to a head during last Sunday’s family dinner. She made her famous beef stew (loaded with garlic and onions), and within 20 minutes I was sweating bullets trying not to vomit at the table. When I excused myself for the fourth time, she snapped: “What’s your problem with my food lately?”
In that moment of pain and frustration, the truth spilled out: “Mom, your cooking makes me physically sick.” The look on her face shattered me – like I’d rejected her love language. She hasn’t invited me over for dinner since.
Cultural Expectations Clash
Complicating matters? Food is how our family shows love. My mom grew up poor, so feeding us “proper meals” represents security and care to her. When I suggested bringing my own dishes, she took it as a personal insult: “You think I’d poison my own child?”
I’ve tried every gentle approach:
- Praising her cooking while eating tiny portions
- Blaming a “temporary stomach bug”
- Offering to cook together with “lighter” ingredients
Nothing worked – she’d either load up my plate anyway or get offended.
The Aftermath Fallout
Now there’s this awkward tension whenever we talk. My siblings think I was too harsh (“Just take some Pepto and let her have this!”). My dad quietly admitted he’s had similar issues for years but “learned to live with it.”
Part of me wonders if I should apologize to keep the peace. But another part – the part that’s spent countless nights in pain – thinks I deserve to eat without suffering. Was there a better way to handle this?
Medical Reality Check
This isn’t just picky eating – food sensitivities are valid medical conditions. My gastroenterologist explained that IBS affects up to 15% of people, often triggered by:
- High-FODMAP foods (like garlic/onions)
- Excessive fats
- Certain cooking methods (deep frying)
Pretending everything’s fine means enduring actual harm to spare someone’s feelings. That doesn’t seem healthy for either of us.
Rebuilding With Boundaries
Here’s where I’m at now: I won’t apologize for telling the truth, but I can express it with more compassion. My current plan:
- Share my medical reports to prove this isn’t about her skills
- Suggest cooking classes together focused on gut-friendly meals
- Establish new traditions (Sunday brunches instead of heavy dinners)
Most importantly? I need to stop forcing myself to eat harmful foods to avoid conflict. Real love shouldn’t require self-harm.
Your Judgment Matters
So tell me honestly – AITAH for how I handled this? Have you faced similar family food conflicts? How did you navigate the emotional landmines while protecting your health? Drop your thoughts in the comments below – your perspective might help others in this tough spot!
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