Combined Minds: What Your Favorite Childhood Snack Says About Your Emotional Damage

Words by Carmen Macri and Ambar Ramirez

Ambar: Do I still eat Hot Cheetos at the same speed I ate them at the ripe age of 9 years old? Yes. Do I eat so much that my stomach feels like what I imagine the fiery pits of hell are like? Also yes. As they say, if it ain’t broke, don’t fix it, and sometimes there’s no other remedy for my brief bursts of sadness like having bright red dust coating my fingers. 

Carmen: There was just something so special about sneaking into my divorce-split kitchen at 2 a.m. to steal a handful of Funyuns before scurrying back to bed, crumbs and all. Now, as I’ve grown older, wiser and hotter — and my Funyuns turned into cherries — I began wondering what my 2 a.m. Funyun run says about my current emotional damage. Because, let’s be honest, it has to mean something…right?

Ambar: We’ve come to realize that these childhood snacks aren’t just food. They’re emotional horcruxes. So what does your favorite childhood treat say about your very specific, possibly unhealed emotional damage?

Carmen: If Funyuns were your childhood go-to, how are you? Seriously, are you OK? Probably not. You were probably the kid everyone left out — maybe because you smelled like a walking onion ring. You’re probably harboring a lifelong defense mechanism that’s equal parts salty and crunchy. A tough exterior to keep people at arm’s length but secretly hoping someone cracks the code and sees the soft, vulnerable center beneath… like an onion.

Ambar: Not to go all Freud on you, but if a Fruit Roll-Up was your favorite childhood snack, you probably have an oral fixation and now lean toward cigarettes to try and forget about the time your mom forgot to pick you up from soccer practice and how that was the moment you realized you could only truly rely on yourself… and artificial strawberry flavoring. You’re fun, flirty, emotionally unavailable and have slight abandonment issues. 

Carmen:  If Bagel Bites were your childhood snack, congratulations! You perfected the art of microwave mastery and emotional procrastination. You couldn’t wait the full three minutes without hovering the microwave like it was a bomb about to explode. You’re probably a certified expert at putting a quick, cheesy band-aid on problems that need actual therapy. You dodge tough feelings like you dodge the last Bagel Bite in the box — pretending it’s not a big deal until you’re left staring at crumbs and regret.

Ambar: If your favorite childhood snack was Ruffles Cheddar & Sour Cream, your emotional damage is layered, much like the flavor dust caked on your fingertips. You were probably a little too emotionally mature for your age, making adult-level snack decisions while other kids were still munching on Goldfish. You’ve been told to “stop taking things so personally,” which only made you take it more personally. You chase validation like it’s the last chip in the bag, and yes, you do still eat your feelings. 

Carmen: If Doritos were your childhood snack of choice, there’s a good chance your emotional foundation is held together by artificial flavoring and unresolved issues. You grew up craving intensity — not just in snacks but in life. Subtlety? Never heard of her. If nacho cheese was your Dorito of choice, you are the walking embodiment of loud opinions and louder outfits. You probably peaked during an elementary school talent show and have been chasing that high ever since. If it’s Cool Ranch, you thought you were better than the rest of us. Edgy, mysterious, a little too into astrology by age 11. Your emotional damage is hidden under a well-curated personality and at least three layers of ironic detachment. Deep down, you just want someone to ask how you’re really doing … but like, without making it a thing.

Ambar: If your favorite childhood snack was a Cosmic Brownie, your emotional damage is baked in and topped with a false sense of whimsy. You were the kid romanticizing sadness before it was cool — journaling in gel pen while listening to Avril Lavigne and pretending your life was a tragic indie film. You crave stability, but only know how to function in emotional extremes: It’s either a dopamine binge or full-on dissociation. 

Carmen: Moral of the story, I think we all need a little bit of therapy.