What Not to Say to Parents of an Autistic Child a Personal Reflection from Boston’s Mom
People often assume that parenting an autistic child is defined by challenges. But the truth is my days with Boston are defined by wonder the way he studies light on the wall, by the softness in his voice when he’s comfortable, by the quiet strength he carries into every room.
What makes the journey heavy isn’t him.
It’s the comments that land in the softest parts of me.
Most people don’t mean harm. They’re trying to connect, or they’re reaching for language they’ve heard before. But certain phrases said casually can feel like someone brushing past a bruise they didn’t know was there.
Here are a few things I wish people understood.
1. “He doesn’t look autistic.”
Boston’s autism isn’t something you can see it’s something you learn by knowing him.
It’s in the way he processes the world, the way he protects his energy, the way he lights up when something finally feels safe.
When someone says this, it feels like they’re erasing the very real work he does every day to navigate a world not built for him.
What I wish they’d say instead:
“I’d love to understand what helps him feel comfortable.”
2. “Are you sure? He seems normal.”
This one stings.
Not because I doubt his diagnosis, but because it suggests that autism is something to hide or question unless it fits a stereotype.
Boston is autistic. He is also joyful, curious, sensitive, and deeply himself. Those truths coexist.
A better approach:
“Thanks for sharing that with me. How can I support him?”
3. “He’ll grow out of it.”
Boston will grow beautifully, uniquely, in his own rhythm.
But autism isn’t something he needs to outgrow. It’s part of who he is, not a phase to be waited out.
A better approach:
“I love seeing who he’s becoming.”
4. “Have you tried…?”
Parents of autistic kids are often handed advice like confetti diets, supplements, miracle cures, discipline strategies, internet theories.
Most of it comes from people who haven’t spent a single day inside our reality.
A better approach:
“If you ever want to talk through ideas, I’m here.”
5. “I could never do what you do.”
I’m not a superhero. I’m a mom.
I love my child. I teach him. I advocate for him. I show up for him.
That’s not extraordinary it’s parenting.
But comments like this create distance, as if our life is something tragic or unimaginable.
A better approach:
“I see how much love you pour into him.”
6. “What caused it?”
This question carries a quiet accusation, even when it’s not intended.
Autism isn’t a fault. It’s not a mistake. It’s not something to trace back to a moment or a misstep.
Boston is exactly who he is meant to be.
A better approach:
“What does he love? I’d like to get to know him.”
7. “He just needs more discipline.”
If only people understood the difference between a meltdown and a tantrum.
Between sensory overload and misbehavior.
Between a child struggling and a child acting out.
Boston isn’t “undisciplined.” He’s navigating a world that often overwhelms him.
A better approach:
“How can I help when things feel hard for him?”
8. “I’m so sorry.”
There is nothing to be sorry for.
Boston is not a tragedy.
He is a gift complex, luminous, and deeply loved.
A better approach:
“He’s wonderful. I’d love to learn more about him.”
What Parents Like Me Do Want to Hear
- “He’s amazing.”
- “I love how unique he is.”
- “You’re doing a beautiful job.”
- “Tell me what helps him feel safe.”
- “I’m here. You’re not alone.”
The Heart of It All
I don’t need people to understand everything about autism.
I just need them to understand him to see Boston as he is, not as a stereotype or a diagnosis.
Parents like me aren’t looking for pity or perfection.
We’re looking for presence.
For people who listen.
For people who try.
For people who see our children’s strengths before their struggles.
Boston deserves that.
Every autistic child does.
Sensory Bubble Lamp
