Is it just me, or do more people eat weird now? Peanut butter isn’t allowed in classrooms and half the people you talk to are gluten-free, vegetarian/vegan, or “trying to cut back on dairy.” As someone who rolled my eyes at elimination diets before going Paleo, I’ve been on both sides of the fence. I’ve said obnoxious things, but I’ve also been hurt by them.

I sometimes hate “what not to say” posts; it’s like the author expects the whole world to accommodate their desires, which won’t happen. But I admit, some of them are illuminating. The ones not about asking people when they’re going to start having kids seem too obvious to have been written, but maybe I wouldn’t think so if I hadn’t read so many. I think reading them has helped me avoid some of the most obvious blunders.

With those disclaimers out of the way, here are three things you should never say to your friend who eats weird (bonus tip: never, ever refer to it as “eating weird,”) and what you can say instead:

1. “If you don’t eat cookies, I feel bad for you.”

“No need!” I replied in a deceptively breezy tone when a coworker said this to me this week. In reality, her comment (mostly the condescending delivery) stuck with me for hours. Some people think life is not worth living if you don’t eat desserts whenever you can. I suppose this comes from marketing. The message is, “Treat yourself. You work hard and you can prove how fun you are and how much you value yourself by eating this unhealthy thing.” Doesn’t make as much sense when you take away the televised slightly-pornographic camera pans over melted cheese and pouring cream. (#foodporn is a real hashtag) Skipping dessert is associated with asceticism, as though whatever life goal proper nutrition will help you achieve could not compare to a moment’s mouthful of whipped cream. I hate the false dichotomy, as though one must choose between deeply enjoying food and being healthy.

Ironically, I feel bad for people whose taste buds are so habituated that they can’t appreciate the great taste of real food and are stuck in the lie that a life without processed foods is joyless and/or tasteless.

I suspect people who say this one are trying to make themselves feel better, elevating their own situation by erroneously putting down mine.

Suggested alternative: Nothing. There’s really no reason to say anything like this. Try to resist the urge to speak.

2. “I could never give up ________” [sugar/gluten/beef/dairy/peanut butter/alcohol, etc.]

Note: this announcement has never, ever been preceded by, “Hey, so-and-so, do you think you could ever give up _______?” It’s usually uttered as a response to something like, “I’m gluten-free” or, “I don’t really do grains.”

It’s the one I have most said myself (usually not about food anymore). I get it. You’re trying to relate to the other person’s situation, but you pretty much don’t at all, so you throw this out just to say something. Here’s the problem: when you say it to me, it makes it seem like I’m not a regular person, which creates distance between us. I don’t have supernatural self-control (you can trick your brain into new habits so less self-control is needed). I’m like you! Honest. I didn’t wake up one morning and think, “Gee, I’d be great at giving up foods I’ve loved for most of my life and have strong emotional ties to! Let me at it!” I once thought I could never give up certain foods, but guess what, I could. I did. Do I secretly think you could too? If you wanted to, yes. I know I shouldn’t say that. But your comment makes me feel defensive enough to throw it back on you. Sometimes I do.

Suggested alternative: “Good for you! It can be hard to change habits.”

3. “That looks disgusting.”

You wouldn’t think I’d need to mention this one. But I’ve heard it. How on earth is this supposed to be taken? What’s the desired response? It will probably make the listener feel defensive or at least sad.

Obviously, not every food appeals to you but it’s almost never necessary to express this, no matter how delicately you put it. If you’re afraid someone will offer you some, plan ahead: practice saying, “no, thanks!” with a smile in the mirror.

Suggested alternative: Nothing. Or, if your head is full of questions: “May I ask what you’re having? I don’t think I’ve seen that dish before.”

Bonus points if you keep quiet and wait for an opportunity to say something nice instead. To the people who have said my food looks/smells good or asked me about it: Thanks! I appreciate it so much!

These three comments come from a set of assumptions about what tastes good, about food as reward or punishment, about conventional wisdom around “dieting” and willpower. The assumptions are treated as facts, which is tough for me as I hold minority beliefs about all three. As I keep refining my opinions, I regret things I used to say. It can be so difficult to hold differing views from someone else and remain fully respectful of their dignity and intelligence (which is to say, their choices). I know from experience that people can be wrong about themselves. I’ve been wrong about myself many times. I’ve been working on refraining from food topics or what I’ve learned unless someone brings it up or asks me a question.

I invite you to reread the three comments, this time with another topic in mind besides food, because they work for other differences as well!