The Secret You Can't Say Out Loud
You cancel plans so you don't have to be alone with her. You feel your chest tighten when the school day ends. You watch other parents laugh with their kids and wonder what's wrong with you—or what's wrong with her.
You love your child. You'd walk through fire for them. But if you're being honest? You don't always like them. And that truth sits in your stomach like a stone you can't swallow.
You're not a monster. And you're not alone.
Understanding What's Really Happening
Some autistic children develop in ways that make connection incredibly difficult. Not because they're broken—but because their neurology creates barriers that neither of you chose.
Your child may struggle profoundly with empathy, not because they're cruel, but because their brain processes social information differently. They might not register that their words hurt. They may see relationships as purely transactional—not out of malice, but because the invisible threads of emotional connection that neurotypical people feel intuitively simply don't register the same way for them.
This can look like coldness. Like manipulation. Like a child who takes and takes without giving anything back. And when you're on the receiving end of that day after day, year after year, it wears you down in ways that feel impossible to explain.
Meanwhile, the outside world sees a different child. Teachers describe them as "amazing." Therapists report great progress. And you're left wondering if you're the problem—if somehow you're the only one who brings out this side of them.
You're not. Home is where the mask comes off. Home is where they feel safe enough to stop performing. That's actually a sign of trust, even when it doesn't feel like one.
What Actually Helps
Separate the child from the behavior—for your own sake.
Your child isn't choosing to be difficult any more than they're choosing their eye color. Their brain is wired in a way that makes warmth, reciprocity, and emotional attunement genuinely hard. This doesn't mean you have to enjoy the experience. But holding onto "this is their neurology, not their character" can create just enough space to breathe.
Stop forcing connection and start creating proximity.
You don't have to manufacture bonding moments. Sometimes the goal is just being in the same room without conflict. Parallel activities—you reading while they play, driving together in comfortable silence—can reduce pressure while still maintaining relationship. Connection doesn't always look like conversation.
Protect the siblings without villainizing anyone.
If safety is a concern, that's not something to minimize or wait out. Physical boundaries, supervised interactions, and clear family rules aren't punishments—they're protection for everyone, including your struggling child. You can hold firm limits while still holding love.
Find your one witness.
You need at least one person who sees what you see. Not to fix it—just to know. A partner, a therapist, a friend who won't flinch when you say the hard things. The isolation of being the only one who knows this version of your child is its own kind of trauma.
Grieve what you expected.
You imagined a relationship with your child. Laughter, inside jokes, the feeling of being wanted. When that doesn't materialize, it's a loss—even if your child is right there. You're allowed to mourn the relationship you thought you'd have while still showing up for the one you've got.
The Bigger Picture
Loving someone you struggle to like is one of the most complicated emotional experiences a human can have. It doesn't make you a bad parent. It makes you a human one.
Your child may never be easy to connect with. They may never light up when you walk in the room or seek you out for comfort. That's painful in ways that don't have neat resolutions.
But you're still here. Still trying. Still looking for answers at midnight when everyone else is asleep. That's not nothing—that's everything.
And sometimes, the most loving thing you can do is keep showing up, even when it's hard. Even when it's thankless. Even when no one else knows what it costs you.
If you're navigating this right now, you don't have to figure it out alone. AriaStar is here 24/7—no judgment, just support from someone who gets it.
Want more support? Explore our blog or talk to AriaStar.