For many of us, cooking for family is one of the deepest ways we show care. It’s how we pass down traditions, comfort those we love, and create memories that last for generations. But in some families, meals become minefields.
And suddenly, something as simple as offering a snack turns into a heated debate. When one family member takes control of the table, it’s not just the menu that changes—it’s the entire dynamic.
Hi Bright Side,
I watched my 5 y.o. granddaughter sob at dinner as my DIL smugly handed her celery sticks.
“Why can’t I have sausages like everyone else?” she asked. My DIL snapped, “We don’t poison our bodies.” That’s when I noticed what made my jaw drop.
My DIL was secretly eating beef jerky from her purse while lecturing the rest of us about processed meat. I bit my tongue, but my heart was pounding. It wasn’t about the meat. It was about the double standard, the shame, and the tears in my granddaughter’s eyes.
This wasn’t a one-time thing. For months, my DIL has refused to let the kids eat at my house unless I follow her "strict vegan policy“—which includes banning all non-vegan products from my fridge when they visit.
I tried. I adjusted recipes, bought expensive substitutes, and even took vegan cooking classes online just to keep the peace. But it was never enough.
She monitored every snack. She scolded me in front of the kids for using honey. She accused me of trying to “undermine their values” when I offered oat milk in the wrong carton brand.
The kids have lost weight. My grandson sneaks cookies from neighbors. My granddaughter has started hiding food.
After weeks of watching their joy vanish and their relationship with food twist into fear, I did what I thought I’d never do—I called Child Services. Not to punish my DIL. But to protect the kids.
They advised me to keep a written log and recommended the family see a counselor. Now my son barely speaks to me, and my DIL called me a “cruel traitor.” But part of me still believes I did the right thing.
I don’t want to lose my family, but I can’t watch those kids suffer while I stand by, silenced in my own home. Do you think I went too far? I really need advice on how to move forward without causing more damage.
Love,
Joanne
Good decision, double standard person cannot be trusted, moreover because they don't notice it themselves. If she badmouthing you, just badmouthing her too. Equality in this world. (Also why vegan get very entitled selfish now ? I love veggies, but I won't force other to eat it.) I prepare salad from sauce chef recipe at dinning table, and gone because other wolfing down, kinda sad because I'm expecting to eat it all latter. No angry in here tough.
Thank you, Joanne. We see your heart in this. Standing up for children—especially when it means risking conflict—is one of the hardest things a grandparent can do. We hope the following advice brings clarity, compassion, and a path forward.
No child should ever feel sad or anxious around food—especially during family meals. If your granddaughter is showing signs of discomfort or going hungry, it’s completely natural for your concern to surface. You acted out of love and care, and that instinct is nothing to feel guilty about. Her wellbeing truly matters, and so does your role in her life.
Right now, he may feel torn between his wife and his mother. Instead of blaming him, reach out with love. Say something like, “I miss you. I did what I did because I was scared. Can we talk without sides—just for the kids?”
If your home is considered “unsafe” by your DIL, suggest neutral spaces for family meals—like a park picnic with both vegan and non-vegan options. Inclusion doesn’t always mean agreement, but it does require flexibility.
Bring books. Share stories. Send postcards. Even if you’re not able to cook or host, you can still offer love, stability, and joy. Those things can’t be taken away.
Has food or parenting differences ever torn your family apart? How did you handle it—and what do you wish you had done differently? Share your experience in the comments. Your story might help someone else feel less alone.
And while you’re here, don’t miss this powerful story from another reader: “I work 60 hours while my MIL throws thousands at crafts and tennis lessons. ’We can’t afford groceries,’ I told my husband. ’Ask your mom for help.’ He refused. That night, my world shattered when I overheard him tell her, ’Don’t worry, she...” 👉 Click here to read what happened next.
