Yes, You Can Eat in Front of the TV
And no, it’s not “mindless” eating. Who is making these rules?
I love to watch TV while I eat my dinner.
It is something I genuinely look forward to, because it brings me a sense of calm, safety, and joy. In fact, Jeb (my husband) and I have a name for our nightly couch-and-comfort-food togetherness: “best time of day”. Honestly, it’s quite lovely to sink into the soft cushions, cozy up with a mindless show, and share (witty, of course) banter over something tasty, all while decompressing from a long day of human interaction.
Having “distractions” (I say with an eye-roll, because…keep reading) actually helps regulate my nervous system. It allows me the space and grace to unburden myself from overstimulation; it’s the signal that tells my brain and body we’re released from all the things.
When I’ve posted about this on Instagram before, the comments go wild, as do my DMs: “Thank you for saying this”. “I’ve always felt so much shame for eating while watching TV”. “I feel so seen! Why have I been told me whole life that this isn’t okay?”
Yes, food and eating can be social. It can bring us together and be the glue for community, tradition, celebration, and connection.
And, it can be overwhelming, depending on our identities and lived experiences. Having conversations while eating, or being in a social setting, can feel disruptive and unsafe for those with social anxiety, neurodivergence, chronic illness, and sensory or feeding differences, among many other things.
Who Decides the “Right” Way to Eat?
In my personal and professional experience, many folks who are healing from disordered eating actually benefit from some kind of distraction like the TV, because having something else to focus on is regulating to their nervous system when eating feels fraught and demanding.

And what about folks who live alone and love the company of their favorite show or a good book? For some, it’s a cherished ritual that turns eating into a moment of companionship and ease. I know that I absolutely savored that time when I lived alone.
It’s important to have a relationship with food that allows for pleasure and enjoyment. But when we put “shoulds” around eating — including how we are eating — we’re playing into oppressive and neurotypical ideas about food that may actively detract from that joy. For many neurodivergent folks, rules like “no distractions” can actually heighten stress and make meals feel overwhelming. A familiar show or comforting activity can create a more predictable and relaxed eating experience. (For more on neurodivergence and eating, Naureen Hunani is an excellent resource!)
The Myth of “Mindless Eating”
I find it interesting that capitalism and diet culture take the approach of saying: “Eating with distractions leads to mindless eating”. Because, I wonder, how could we ever define what constitutes a “distraction” for every human? For many, it’s far more “distracting” to be socializing than it is to have a show on in the background.
Beyond that, most of the narrative around “mindless eating” is steeped in anti-fat bias. The underlying message is: “if you eat without being hyper-aware of every bite, or slowing down with zero distractions, you’ll eat too much”. This isn’t about inclusivity and health, it’s about shame and judgement; it’s about scare tactics that center on weight and body size.
Gathering together over a meal has been put up on a pedestal as the “right way” to engage with food. It’s true that for many folks a social eating experience can be a lovely way to connect with one another, it’s also not the only way to connect. We can spend time together through other means if that feels better (a board game, a walk, a book club…). It’s important to bring an open mind to this, and create space for different social preferences.
Inevitably, I’ll get the question: But what about family dinner?
For some folks, connecting over food at the end of the day is incredibly supportive of their well-being and inter-family relationships. Maybe it’s a time to connect, share stories, or feel a general sense of togetherness. And for those who find it nourishing and fulfilling, that’s wonderful. But the reality is, family dinner isn’t a universally positive or accessible experience for everyone.
For some, structured mealtimes can feel rigid, stressful, or even unsafe—especially for those with a history of disordered eating, neurodivergence, sensory sensitivities, or strained family dynamics. The expectation to engage in conversation while eating can be overwhelming, particularly for kids (or adults) who need decompression time after a long day. Some may feel pressured to eat a certain way, finish their plate, or adhere to unspoken family norms around food—all of which can create anxiety rather than connection.

And let’s not forget that the cultural pedestal of family dinner is deeply tied to patriarchal and Eurocentric ideals, often centering the image of a nuclear family gathered around a home-cooked meal prepared by a mother who takes on the bulk of the labor. This ignores the reality that many families look different—single-parent households, shift workers, caregivers, and families where cooking a nightly meal isn’t feasible. It also erases the fact that meaningful connection can happen in so many other ways, whether it’s sharing a bedtime story, going for an evening walk, watching a show, or simply checking in with each other in ways that feel natural and unforced.
If you or your children are struggling with this dynamic, it’s okay to take a different approach. They (or you) may need alternative experiences in order to feel safe in their body and safe to feed themselves, and you get to redefine what family connection, closeness, and nourishment looks like for you. (For more on family dinner and how diet culture can play a role, check out this episode of Full Plate with Virginia Sole-Smith)
You are allowed to eat “with distractions.”
You are allowed to eat while watching TV. You are allowed to eat while scrolling Instagram. You are allowed to eat while reading a book or watching the birds on your porch. Just like you are allowed to eat while having conversations with friends and family at the table.
At the end of the day, you get to choose what feels good for you. And of course, that won’t be the same for every person. Why should it?
Experimentation and curiosity. Make the end-goal be about cultivating an environment that reduces shame, feels supportive, and encourages body autonomy.
I’d love to know: What has your experience been with this?
Do you enjoy watching a show while you eat?
What negative associations have you been conditioned to have with “distractions” while eating? How are you challenging these?
We eat with TV every night. It's time spent with the one I love in person and the stories that give me comfort. It's the one time of day where I know what's going to happen next. Buffy is going to save the world ... again.
I have sort of the opposite problem. I am not a TV person but I love to read. I always read while eating and never had any guilt about it whatsoever. However I realized that I only let myself read during a rigid meal schedule so I actually had to stop and just eat and allow myself to read at different times of the day.