Hearts on the Spectrum: Walking Our Autism Journey

Written By Adrianna Herrada

Creating A World That Speak Their Language

I Was Discovering a Different World

One of the biggest turning points in our journey came when I realized something so simple — yet so profound: Jacob’s sensory world was not the same as mine.

At first, I was confused. Why wouldn’t he make eye contact? I saw him avoiding my eyes, his gaze drifting gently over my shoulder to the side. Why did he tiptoe around the house, resist wearing clothes, or flat-out refuse food? Why did the sound of the blender or the vacuum send him into screams as he covered his ears?

Then there were the other little quirks: the flapping of his hands when he was excited, the way he craved movement, the climbing and jumping without any sense of danger. I used to wonder: Why?

It wasn’t until I spent hours observing — and listening to his BCBA explain — that I began to see the bigger picture. She explained that individuals with autism often experience the sensory world differently from us. In some instances, Jacob was a sensory seeker. When he climbed and jumped without hesitation, his body was craving sensory input to regulate. He wasn’t “ignoring” me, and he wasn’t “misbehaving.” He was navigating a world that felt completely different to him.

In other situations Jacob was sensory avoiding, like when sounds became too loud or overwhelming, there was too much sensory input flooding in — and he needed to retreat to a quiet space to re-ground and collect himself.

Some things overwhelmed him, like loud noises and clothing textures. Other things grounded him, like watching and touching water or the deep pressure of a weighted blanket.

What seemed unusual to others made perfect sense once I learned to see through his perspective.

That realization changed everything.

How I Felt as a Parent

Looking back, I realize it wasn’t that I was trying to force Jacob into my world — it was that I didn’t even realize his world was so profoundly different. That lack of awareness wasn’t out of neglect or resistance; it was simply because I hadn’t been taught to look through that lens.

When the pieces finally started clicking together, I felt a wave of emotions — relief that I was finally beginning to understand him, and grief over all the moments I had misunderstood. I had to forgive myself for the times I thought he was ignoring me, or being “difficult,” when really, he was just trying to cope in a world that constantly challenged his senses.

There’s a quiet kind of empowerment that comes with understanding.
It doesn’t make things easy, but it makes connection possible. And I learned that connection, was everything for Jacob and I to understand each other and make steady progress.

I started to realized I could create a safe and friendly space in our home that would bring him comfort, I started creating a world that didn’t fight against him, but instead spoke his language.

Understanding Sensory Processing Differences

In the professional world, these differences are sometimes described as Sensory Processing Disorder (SPD) — a term often used in occupational therapy to explain challenges with processing and responding to sensory information from the environment. While it isn’t an official medical diagnosis, it’s a helpful way to understand the sensory experiences many children face.

But what does this mean as a parent or caregiving individual outside the spectrum?

The simplest way I can explain it is by comparing it to a different operating systems. Think about technology: you have your Apple users and your Android users. As an adult who uses an I phone, you hand me a Samsung I am completely lost and have no idea how to navigate the apps or music, something so simple becomes so complex for me. Imagine someone who has always used Windows suddenly being handed a Mac. The operating systems aren’t better or worse — they’re just different. You simply have to learn how to navigate that system.

To me, it’s the same with sensory processing differences.

Some of us can’t stand the sound of chewing or the popping of gum, while others hardly notice it. Some of us don’t mind the smell of perfume, while others it can overwhelming and cause a headache.

To someone with SPD, the world can feel like that — but amplified.

They may have an oversensitivity to one thing, like loud noises or scratchy fabrics, while craving extra stimulation in another, like pressure or movement.

Once I understood that Jacob’s brain wasn’t something to be “corrected,” but beautifully wired in its own way, I could begin to meet him in his operating system — not force him into mine.

Stimming – The Body’s Language of Regulation

This is where I began to see another piece of the puzzle: stimming.

“Stimming” refers to self-stimulatory behaviors — things like hand-flapping, rocking, spinning, or repeating certain movements or sounds.
For Jacob, it often looked like hand-flapping when he was excited, high-pitched squealing, or climbing and jumping with fearless energy.

At first, I worried. Was this a bad habit? Was something wrong?

But through research, observation, and guidance from his BCBA, I came to understand something life-changing:
Stimming is not a problem to fix. It’s a form of communication and self-regulation.

For Jacob, stimming was his way of:

  • Expressing joy

  • Calming himself when overwhelmed

  • Seeking the input his body craved

Common Stims and What They Might Mean

  • Hand-flapping or finger-flicking – Often shows excitement, anticipation, or self-regulation.

  • Rocking back and forth – Can be soothing, especially in stressful or overstimulating environments.

  • Walking on tiptoes – May reflect a need for proprioceptive input (awareness of body in space).

  • Covering ears or humming – A way to block out overwhelming noises.

  • Repeating words, sounds, or phrases (echolalia) – Can help with language processing or emotional regulation.

  • Chewing on objects or clothing – A need for oral sensory input, calming and grounding.

  • Jumping, spinning, or climbing – Seeking vestibular input (movement/balance) that helps regulate energy.

Instead of asking, “How do I stop this?” the better question became: “What is my child telling me through this behavior?”

We All Stim

The more I learned, the more I realized: we all “Stim” (Self-Stimulatory Behavior). It may look different, but it’s there. Stimming is a calming, grounding process — our body’s way of finding balance.

Think about it:

  • Twirling your hair in your fingers

  • Tapping your foot during an uncomfortable conversation

  • Chewing fingernails when feeling anxious

  • Doodling in the margins to focus

We all have these little ways of soothing, regulating, and resetting ourselves.

For someone with autism, their stimming may look different — more visible, more frequent, or more unique.
But that doesn’t make it wrong.
It doesn’t make them strange.

It makes them human.

Recommendations

Disclosure: As an Amazon Associate, I earn a commission from qualifying purchases at no additional cost to you. I only recommend tools and resources that I have personally used with Jacob or believe can help other families on their journey.

Thank you for supporting Hearts on the Spectrum.

Sensational Kids by Lucy Jane Miller

Written by one of the leading researchers on SPD, this book dives deeply into the science while still staying practical for families. For me, it took the mystery out of Jacob’s sensory reactions and replaced it with understanding. It gave me language for what I was observing, and concrete ideas to help him thrive day-to-day.

Uniquely Human by Dr. Barry Prizant

This book changed my lens completely. Dr. Prizant doesn’t look at autism through a list of “symptoms” — he teaches us to see behaviors as communication. Reading this helped me pause, listen, and ask: What is Jacob trying to tell me? It’s gentle, affirming, and filled with hope.

The Loving Push by Dr. Temple Grandin and Debra Moore

Temple Grandin brings both her lived autistic experience and professional wisdom into this book. What I love is the balance: it honors sensory differences, while also encouraging us as parents to gently guide our children toward growth and independence. For me, it was like having a mentor who both understood Jacob’s world and showed me how to support his next steps.

Raising a Sensory Smart Child by Lindsey Biel & Nancy Peske

This one is incredibly practical. It’s packed with strategies, activities, and real-life examples. When I was overwhelmed by how to put supports into practice, this book made it feel doable. From clothing tips to sensory play, it became a handbook I returned to again and again.

Building Jacob’s Sensory Haven

The first thing I did was set aside a special place in our home — a little sanctuary just for Jacob. I wanted him to have somewhere safe where he could retreat, recollect, and ground himself whenever the world became too overwhelming.

We started with a small comfortable tent as his base. Inside, I added a soft cushion floor pad, a soft cozy bean bag chair, plenty of pillows and a weighted blanket. I strung gentle mini-lights along the inside so he had the choice to switch them on or off, depending on whether he wanted a calm glow or total quiet.

Right outside the tent, we placed a colorful drawer system labeled with PECS filled with his favorite items — offering structure, choices, and independence.

Over time, this space became his sensory haven.
Not just about toys or tools — but about creating a place where his body and mind could reset.
A place where he felt safe and understood.

Jacob’s Sensory Haven Toolkit

Here are some of the tools that helped us build a safe, calming space for Jacob. Every child’s sensory needs are different, but these were our essentials.

Each of these tools gave Jacob something different — a way to regulate, to soothe, to focus, or to simply enjoy. And together, they built an environment where he could be himself, recharge, and return to the world feeling calmer and stronger.

Parent Tip: Start small. Choose just one or two items, observe what works, and slowly build from there. What calms one child may overstimulate another — the goal is to create a space that fits your child’s language.

A Space of His Own

Jacob’s sensory haven quickly became more than just a cozy tent with tools inside — it became a safe, calming space that belonged entirely to him.

We even made it part of his communication system. His custom PECS picture for “tent” was added to his hub board. Whenever Jacob needed a break, he would pull out that picture, hand it to me, and head straight to his space. It was his way of saying, “I need to recharge.”

And we listened.

One important rule in our home was that this space was Jacob’s alone. No one entered his tent unless he invited them. Those boundaries mattered. They showed him that his feelings were valid, that his voice (spoken or not) carried weight, and that we respected his need for safety and control.

Expanding His World Through Movement

As Jacob’s needs evolved, we realized that while his sensory haven gave him a calm place to rest, he also needed spaces that allowed him to seek the input his body craved.

That’s when we added a few key tools to help him regulate through movement and joyful play:

  • A mini trampoline gave him a safe way to bounce and burn energy — his eyes would light up with every jump.

  • A bubble machine brought giggles and wonder, while also helping him practice tracking and breath control.

  • A water table turned into his favorite summer activity — a soothing, stimulating experience all at once.

These additions reminded me that regulation doesn’t always mean stillness. Sometimes it means providing a safe, loving outlet for movement and excitement.

With both calming and active spaces, Jacob could flow between the two — learning how to meet his body’s needs and express himself fully.

  • Your voice matters.

  • Your feelings matter.

  • Your space is sacred.

Because creating a world that speaks their language isn’t just about sensory tools or visual supports. It’s about teaching our children that their needs matter, their voices matter, and they deserve spaces — and lives — where they feel safe and loved.

For Parents Walking This Journey

If you’ve made it this far, I want you to know: you are not alone.

Whether your child is sensory-seeking, sensory-avoiding, or somewhere in between, your love and your effort make all the difference. Building a sensory haven isn’t about creating the “perfect” setup — it’s about listening, adapting, and respecting the language your child is already speaking. It’s about building bridges of trust, support and peace.

If you’d like support in building customized visuals, sensory tools, or routines that fit your child, I’d be honored to help. I offer personalized support packages and I’m continually adding new resources to Hearts on the Spectrum. Because every child deserves to be understood, and every family deserves to feel supported.

There is peace to be found. There is hope in the process. There is a future still unfolding for your child - one calm step, one safe space, once connection at a time.

Numbers 6:24-26 reminds us:

“May the Lord bless you and keep you; the Lord make his face shine on you and be gracious to you; the Lord turn his face toward you and give you peace.”

Note From The Heart

I’m not a medical professional or therapist — I am a mom walking this journey alongside my amazing child, who is diagnosed with Autism Spectrum Disorder and a Speech Disability. Everything I share comes from our personal experiences, deep love, and what I’ve learned along the way.

Please always consult with qualified professionals for guidance tailored to your child and family’s unique needs.

Adrianna Herrada
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