When I became a mom, hugs, kisses, and “I love yous” filled my love tank. You know you’ve done a good job as a mom when your little one showers you with kisses. Imagine the utter horror if your child weren’t able to express these gestures of love. Even worse! Imagine if they no longer wanted to receive these gestures of love. How would you feel?
For me, it was a difficult thing to understand at first. I felt rejected; I wondered what I’d done wrong to make my son not love me. Then, the more I learned about autism, the more I understood. In fact, I don’t think that as a neurotypical person, we can fully understand this world of autism—so colorful and yet so difficult to navigate. It’s so complex! I had to learn to get to know my son through this new side of him that I hadn’t known before.
I observed, experimented, and above all, respected his limits. Touch isn’t easy, especially for a hypersensitive child like my sweet little guy, for whom every sensation feels overwhelming. You have to understand that for an autistic brain, processing all the sensory information isn’t simple. He feels everything, all the time! His five senses are constantly overwhelmed: every breeze is felt, every little noise is heard, and a whole mix of smells assaults his sense of smell. So imagine yourself in this storm of sensations—and then, suddenly, a hand touches you, leaving a burning sensation that lasts for minutes, even hours. Or imagine something squeezing you so tightly that you feel suffocated. That’s what it’s like for the autistic brain. Especially in early childhood, when the child hasn’t yet learned to properly manage and process this information. Every new sensation is a new piece of information that lines up one after another in the child’s brain.
Once I understood that, I let Antoine show me his love in his own way, however he feels comfortable. I learned to respect his pace, as if to win him over. He shows me he loves me with a smile, a “HELLO, MOM,” or simply by letting me sit next to him. Little by little, I allowed myself a small gesture here and there, as if to tame a wild animal. I’m telling you, it’s the same thing. You observe, you let him come to you, and you take it slowly. Now, Antoine lets me give him a kiss every now and then—a hug rarely, but still. I tell him “I love you,” and I know he loves me too, even if he doesn’t say it.
To every mom who’s going through this, I want to tell you not to worry: your child loves you because you’re his mom. Try to see and discover his own language of love. It can be as simple as when he lets you join in his play, when he meets your gaze for a few seconds, or when he puts his hand on yours. No matter what, don’t worry—he loves you, and trying to smother him with hugs, kisses, and a barrage of tender words can actually be overwhelming for him. I hope you can find peace in your heart as a “different” mom. Finally, do you know how I know your child loves you? Because you’re an extraordinary mom!
Alexandra