parenting strategies

  • Creating Mask-Free Zones: A Loving Approach to Authenticity at Home and School

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    The Day They Told Me Adrián Was “Acting Normal” at School

    A good friend of Adrián told me at pick-up “Adrián, Is SO tired, but he was acting normal all day.”

    “What do you mean, ‘acting normal’?” I asked..

    “You know… making eye contact. Not stimming. Sitting still. Acting like other kids.”

    My heart broke. Because I realized: my son was masking. And he was exhausted from it.

    That conversation changed everything for our family. It’s why Luis and I became obsessed with creating mask-free zones, spaces where Adrián (and now Guille) never have to pretend to be anything other than exactly who they are.

    If your autistic child is exhausted, withdrawn, or having meltdowns after seemingly “good” days, masking might be why. And creating mask-free zones might be the answer.

    What IS Masking? (And Why It’s So Exhausting)

    Masking is when autistic people hide or suppress their natural autistic traits to fit in with neurotypical expectations.

    It looks like:

    • Forcing eye contact when it’s uncomfortable

    • Suppressing stims (no hand-flapping, no rocking, no vocal sounds)

    • Scripting conversations instead of speaking naturally

    • Pretending to understand social cues they actually don’t get

    • Hiding sensory sensitivities

    • Mirroring others’ body language and expressions

    • Acting interested in things they find boring.

    And here’s the cost: It’s exhausting!

    Imagine spending every moment of your day monitoring your body language, your facial expressions, your tone of voice. Imagine suppressing your natural movements and responses. Imagine translating every social interaction like you’re speaking a foreign language.

    That’s what masking feels like. And that’s what Adrián was doing all day, every day, at school.

    Why Kids Mask

    Adrián didn’t consciously decide one day to start masking. It happened gradually.

    He learned that:

    • Adults praised him when he made eye contact

    • Kids stopped staring when he stopped stimming

    • Adults thought he was “doing better” when he sat still

    • People were nicer to him when he “acted normal”

    So he learned to hide who he really was to make others more comfortable.

    And the heartbreaking part? He thought this was what he was supposed to do…

    The Signs Your Child Might Be Masking

    I didn’t recognize Adrián’s masking for years because at school, he seemed “fine.” His teachers said he was doing well. He wasn’t having meltdowns there…

    But at home? Different story.

    The After-School Collapse

    Within 20 minutes of getting home, specially in the early years Adrián would have a meltdown. Over tiny things, wrong snack, homework, his brother existing……

    I thought, “Why does he save all this for me?”

    Now I know: He was holding it together all day, and home was the only place safe enough to fall apart.

    The Weekend Shutdown

    Fridays through Sundays, Adrián would barely speak. He’d retreat to his room, avoid family activities, resist any plans.

    I worried he was depressed…

    But he was recovering from a week of masking. He needed that quiet, that solitude, that lack of demands.

    The Loss of Authentic Interests

    Adrián stopped talking about trains at school, his biggest passion, because other kids didn’t share that interest……

    He’d come home and talk about popular shows he didn’t even like, repeating things he’d heard other kids say……

    He was losing himself trying to fit in.……

    Physical Symptoms

    Headaches. Stomach aches. Trouble sleeping. These all increased during the school year and eased during breaks.

    Masking isn’t just emotionally exhausting, it’s physically draining.

    Creating Mask-Free Zones at Home

    Once I understood what was happening, Luis and I committed to making our home a place where masking was never necessary.

    Rule #1: Stimming Is Always Welcome

    Before: “Adrián, hands still.” “Stop making that sound.” “Sit properly.”……

    Now: Our home is a stim-friendly zone. Hand-flapping? Great. Vocal sounds? Go for it. Pacing while thinking? Perfect.

    We don’t just allow stimming, we celebrate it as part of who he is.

    Guille watches his brother stim freely and is learning that his own stims (spinning, jumping, echolalia) are perfectly okay too.

    Rule #2: No Forced Eye Contact

    In our home, you never have to look at someone to show you’re listening. ( I do this all the time as an Autistic Adult)

    Luis and I have learned to trust that Adrián is paying attention even when he’s looking away, building LEGO, or lying on the floor.

    Sometimes his best conversations happen while he’s doing something else with his hands.

    Rule #3: Honest Answers Are Valued

    “How was your day?”……

    Before, Adrián would say: “Fine.”…

    Now, he might say: “Loud and overwhelming. I’m glad to be home.”

    We don’t pressure him to be positive or polite. We want honesty. Even if that honesty is “I don’t want to talk about it right now.”

    Rule #4: Special Interests Are Treasured

    Adrián can talk about Roman history for an hour, and we listen. Not politely waiting for him to finish, but actually interested because his passion is beautiful.

    When he brings home a new fact about steam engines, we don’t redirect. We engage.

    His special interests aren’t annoying quirks to manage. They’re windows into what makes him amazing.

    Rule #5: “No” Is a Complete Sentence

    Family gathering? “Can I stay home?”…… Trying a new food? “No thanks.”…… Hug from a relative? “I’d rather not.”……

    In our home, Adrián doesn’t have to justify his boundaries. We trust that he knows what he needs.

    The Physical Space Matters Too

    Adrián’s room is his ultimate mask-free zone:

    • Dim lighting (he controls it)

    • His collections displayed proudly (trains, historical figures, maps)

    • Comfortable clothing only (tags cut out, soft fabrics)

    • Sensory tools within reach

    • No expectations for organization (his “mess” makes sense to him).

    This is HIS space. We don’t impose our neurotypical preferences on it.

    What About School? (Can We Create Mask-Free Zones There?)

    Here’s the harder truth: school is where masking happens most intensely.

    But Luis and I have worked with Adrián’s teachers to create moments of mask-free time, even in that environment, they are experienced and have given us peace of mind and working along with the therapists and us parents has been a life-saver:

    What We’ve Agreed together (Teacher-Therapist-Parents):

    ✓ Fidget tools during class – Adrián can use a fidget while listening. It helps him focus, not distract him……

    ✓ Movement breaks – Built into the schedule, not earned through “good behavior”……

    ✓ Alternative seating – Specially younger, Adrián uses a wobble cushion instead of sitting rigidly still……

    ✓ Reduced eye contact expectations – His teacher understands he’s listening even when not looking……

    ✓ A quiet lunch option – Instead of the overwhelming cafeteria, he can eat in the library with a small group……

    ✓ Special interest integration – When possible, assignments connect to his interests (he did a history project on trains and thrived)……

    ✓ Acceptance of stims – As long as he’s not disrupting others’ learning, his stims are welcomed……

    The Conversation With Teachers

    Luckily we never tiptoe around asking for accommodations, worried about being “that parent.”……

    We believe a honest and truthful conversation with teachers is the best way to go.

    “Adrián masks heavily at school to meet neurotypical expectations. It’s exhausting for him and leads to meltdowns at home. Can we work together to reduce the need for masking during the school day?”

    You might find that some teachers get it immediately. Others need ideas and tips. But starting the conversation has made a huge difference……

    For Educators: How to Create Mask-Free Moments

    If you’re a teacher reading this, here’s what would help autistic students in your classroom:……

    Start With Awareness

    Recognize that the “well-behaved” autistic student who never causes problems might be masking intensely, and paying a huge price for it.

    Build In Regulation Time

    Don’t make breaks something kids have to earn. Build them into the day for everyone.

    Adrián’s best teacher had a “sensory break” built into the schedule every 90 minutes. ALL students benefited, not just the autistic ones.

    Challenge Your Own Expectations

    Does a student really need to make eye contact to show respect? Do they really need to sit completely still to be learning?

    Often, we’re requiring masking without realizing it.

    Create Quiet Options

    Not every child thrives in group activities or loud environments. Having a quiet alternative isn’t “special treatment”, it’s meeting different needs.

    Celebrate Neurodiversity

    When you openly value different ways of thinking, moving, and being in your classroom, you send the message that masking isn’t required.

    Display neurodiversity-affirming posters. Read books with autistic characters. Talk about different learning styles as equally valid.

    This benefits all students, not just autistic ones.

    The Cost of Masking (Why This Matters So Much)

    I want to be clear about something: masking isn’t harmless.Research shows that prolonged masking is linked to:

    • Burnout and exhaustion

    • Anxiety and depression

    • Loss of identity and sense of self

    • Delayed recognition of one’s own needs

    • Increased risk of suicide in autistic adults..

    When Adrián tells me he is “tired of acting normal,” that was a warning sign……

    Creating mask-free zones isn’t just about comfort. It’s about mental health. It’s about allowing our kids to know and be themselves.

    What You Can Do Today: 5 Steps to Honor Your Child’s True Self

    These are the shifts I wish I had made sooner. They’re not about fixing your child, but about changing the environment to let their true self shine.

    1. Recognize the Masking
    Notice the pattern of “good days at school / meltdowns at home.” It’s not defiance, it’s often the exhausting cost of masking all day. That meltdown is the backpack of anxiety finally being unpacked.

    2. Declare Home a Mask-Free Zone
    Tell them, explicitly and often: “You never have to hide who you are in this house.” This verbal permission can be a profound relief.

    3. Model Your Own Authenticity
    After my own diagnosis, I stopped masking my own autistic traits at home. When he saw me stim, or need quiet, or be blunt about my feelings, it gave him silent, powerful permission to do the same.

    4. Advocate Boldly, Not Apologetically
    I was too worried about being a “difficult parent.” I wish I’d pushed harder, sooner, for the supports he needed. You are not being difficult; you are being necessary.

    5. Celebrate, Don’t Just Tolerate
    Move beyond allowing his traits to actively celebrating them. That intense focus? It’s passion. That need for routine? It’s brilliant foresight. Name the strength behind the behavior.

    Resources That Have Helped Us

    If you’re realizing your child has been masking and you want to create safer spaces for them, here’s what has genuinely helped our family:

    📚 Autism: My Invisible Backpack – This book explores masking from Adrián’s perspective and includes strategies for creating mask-free zones.

    And we’ve created FREE downloadable resources including:

    • Creating Mask-Free Zones guide

    • Accommodations request template for schools

    • Recognizing masking checklist

    • Building authentic confidence activities……

    Your child shouldn’t have to earn the right to be themselves. They should know it’s a given, at least in the spaces you control.

    With love and authenticity,
    Dalisse (& Luis)
    Loving Pieces Books

    💙 Does your child mask? How do you create safe spaces for authenticity? Share with our community, we’re all learning together. Find us on Instagram @lovingpiecesbooks or explore more resources at lovingpiecesbooks.com.

  • The Day I Realized I’d Been Searching for the Wrong Kind of Help

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    For the first two years after Adrián’s diagnosis, I devoured every autism resource I could find.

    Books. Websites. Expert advice. Therapy techniques. Evidence-based strategies.

    And you know what? I felt more lost than ever.

    Because all of it, ALL of it… felt clinical. Detached. Like it was written by people studying autism from the outside, not living it from the inside. It used big complicated concepts that between my sadness and my willingness to learn it was getting to much to gasp.

    Apart that none of it felt like us. None of it understood what our actual days looked like. The messy, beautiful, overwhelming reality of raising autistic kids.

    Then one day, I stumbled into an online group of autism parents, real parents, sharing real stories. No jargon. No clinical distance. Just: “Here’s what happened today. Here’s what worked. Here’s where I’m struggling.” Reddit did the trick.

    And for the first time since Adrián’s diagnosis, I felt like I could relate. Of course I am grateful for the professionals who guide us every day up to this day, but I felt I needed to see and hear from other parents too.

    That’s when my real autism parenting journey began. Not when I got the diagnosis. Not when I read all the books. But when I found community, and realized I wasn’t alone.

    If you’re reading this feeling overwhelmed, confused, or like you’re the only one who doesn’t have it all figured out, I see you. And I want you to know: you’re not alone. Not even a little bit.

    The Journey I Didn’t Expect

    Let me be honest about something: I thought an autism diagnosis would come with a roadmap.

    Like, here’s the diagnosis, here are the next steps, follow this path, and everything will be okay.

    Spoiler alert: That’s not how it works.

    Instead, it felt like being dropped in the middle of a forest with no map, no compass, and everyone around you speaking a language you don’t understand.

    IEPs. Sensory diets. ABA. OT. Speech therapy. Social skills groups. Developmental milestones. Red flags. Early intervention.

    The terminology alone was overwhelming. And underneath all of it was this constant, gnawing fear:

    Am I doing this right? Am I doing enough? Am I somehow making it worse?

    The Moment That Changed Everything

    Adrián was 6. We were sitting with luis listing all the things he “couldn’t” do.

    Can’t maintain eye contact.
    Can’t handle transitions.
    Can’t regulate his emotions.
    Can’t, can’t, can’t.

    I felt myself shrinking with every word. Like my beautiful, curious, creative son was being reduced to a list of deficits.

    Then Luis, my rock, my partner who always sees things more clearly than I do, spoke up:

    “Can we talk about what he can do? Because Adrián can name every Train Station in Spain in chronological order. He can draw the most intricate Road structures I’ve ever seen. He can tell you exactly how he’s feeling when he has the right words. He can do so many incredible things.”

    Then we actually smiled.

    “You’re right,” I said. “Let’s start there.”

    That was the day we stopped focusing on fixing Adrián and started focusing on supporting him to be the best version of himself.

    What “Support” Actually Looks Like (Hint: It’s Not What I Thought)

    I used to think supporting Adrián meant making him more “typical.”

    Helping him make eye contact. Teaching him to sit still. Getting him to stop stimming. Making him fit in.

    God, I cringe thinking about that now.

    Because here’s what I’ve learned: support doesn’t mean changing who your child is. It means giving them tools to navigate a world that wasn’t designed for them.

    The Visual Schedules That Saved Our Mornings

    Mornings used to be chaos. Pure, tear-filled chaos.

    Adrián would melt down almost every school morning because he couldn’t predict what was coming next. The uncertainty felt overwhelming.

    Then our OT suggested visual schedules. Simple picture cards showing the morning routine:

    1. Wake up
    2. Get dressed
    3. Eat breakfast
    4. Brush teeth
    5. Put on backpack
    6. Get in car

    Game. Changer.

    Suddenly, Adrián could see what was coming. He could prepare himself. The meltdowns didn’t disappear completely, but they decreased dramatically. We are using this more and more with Guillermo and he loves this!

    It wasn’t about changing him. It was about giving him a tool to manage something that was genuinely hard for his brain.

    The Sensory Tools That Made Public Spaces Bearable

    For years, we avoided places that were too loud, too bright, too crowded. Which meant we avoided a lot of life. Adrián did not mind the loud noises but he disliked crowded places, so we avoided them as much as we could.

    Guillermo has a hard time with noises and when we discovered noise-canceling headphones.

    Such a simple thing. But it transformed Guillermos experience of the world.

    Suddenly, he could go to school assemblies. Birthday parties. Family gatherings. The grocery store didn’t trigger immediate meltdowns.

    By boys are still autistic. They will still processed sensory input differently. But now we had a tool that helped Guillermo manage Loud noises, and we know to avoid crowded places for Adri to stay regulated.

    That’s support. Not changing who they are, but equipping them to participate in life on their own terms.

    The Social Stories That Built Understanding

    Adrián struggles with understanding unspoken social rules. Things neurotypical kids just… absorb? He needs them explained explicitly.

    So we started using social stories, simple narratives that walk through social situations step by step.

    “When we go to Grandma’s house, she might want to hug you. You can say ‘I’d rather do a high-five’ if hugs feel uncomfortable. That’s okay.”

    “At the park, if you want to play with someone, you can say ‘Can I play too?’ They might say yes, or they might say no. Both answers are okay.”

    These stories gave Adrián a framework for navigating social situations that felt confusing and unpredictable.

    Again, not changing him. Giving him tools.

    The Community That Became My Lifeline

    Here’s something they don’t tell you about autism parenting: the isolation is crushing.

    Even when you’re surrounded by people who love you, you can feel completely alone. Because they don’t get it.

    They don’t understand why you can’t just “make” your child behave.
    They don’t get why a birthday party feels like a military operation requiring days of preparation.
    They don’t know what it’s like to celebrate victories like “He wore jeans today!” while other parents are celebrating scholarships and sports trophies.

    I needed people who got it. And I found them online.

    The Facebook Group That Saved My Sanity

    I joined an autism parenting group when Adrián was 5, mostly just to lurk. I wasn’t ready to share my story yet.

    But reading other parents’ posts? Life-changing.

    “My son had a meltdown at Target today and I sat on the floor with him while people stared. I’m exhausted but I know I did the right thing.”

    “Small victory: She tried a new food today! Just a tiny bite, but I’m counting it as a win.”

    “Does anyone else’s kid line up all their toys in perfect rows? Is this normal?”

    Reading these posts, I realized: I’m not alone. Other people understand. This is hard, but it’s not just hard for me.

    Eventually, I started commenting. Then posting. Then forming real friendships with parents across the country who “got it” in a way my IRL friends couldn’t.

    That community became my lifeline.

    The Autistic Adults Who Taught Me Everything

    But here’s the thing: parent groups are crucial, but they’re not enough.

    The people who taught me the MOST about autism? Autistic adults.

    Following actually autistic people on social media opened my eyes in ways no parenting book ever could.

    They explained what stimming feels like from the inside.
    They described why eye contact is uncomfortable.
    They shared what masking costs them.
    They talked about what they wish their parents had understood.

    Listening to autistic voices transformed how I parent.

    And here’s a full-circle moment: years later, I discovered I’m autistic too. Late-diagnosed at 39, after my boys’ diagnoses prompted me to recognize myself in their experiences.

    Suddenly, so much of my own childhood made sense. The overwhelm. The masking. The feeling of being different but not knowing why.

    Understanding my own autism made me a better parent to my autistic kids.

    The Strategies That Actually Work in Real Life

    Okay, let’s get practical. Because understanding and community are crucial, but you also need tools for the day-to-day.

    Emotion Regulation Tools

    Both Adrián and Guillermo struggle with big emotions. When they’re upset, they can’t just “calm down” on command.

    What helps:

    Visual emotion charts – Pictures showing different feelings. Both boys can point to how they’re feeling when words are too hard.

    Calm-down corner – A designated space with dim lighting, soft textures, weighted blankets, and favorite comfort items. No punishment, just a safe place to regulate.

    Breathing exercises – We practice these when they’re calm, so the technique is familiar when they need it. Deep breath in for 4, hold for 4, out for 6.

    Sensory tools – Fidget toys, chewable necklaces, therapy putty. Different kids need different input.

    Building Independence Through Choice

    Autistic kids often feel like life happens to them, they have little control over their days, their schedules, their experiences.

    Giving choices: even small ones, builds confidence and autonomy.

    “Do you want to wear the blue shirt or the red shirt?”
    “Should we read two books or three books tonight?”
    “Do you want a snack now or after your shower?”

    These aren’t big decisions. But they give Adrián and Guille practice in self-advocacy and decision-making.

    Celebrating Progress, Not Perfection

    This one is hard for me. I’m a perfectionist by nature, and I had to actively retrain my brain to celebrate small victories.

    Adrián tried a new food? WIN.
    Guille used words instead of screaming when he was frustrated? WIN.
    We made it through a family gathering without a meltdown? HUGE WIN.

    I keep a “wins journal” where I write down these moments. On hard days, I flip through it to remind myself: we are making progress. It just looks different than I expected.

    The Books That Became Tools, Not Just Stories

    When Adrián was struggling with confidence, feeling different, wondering if anyone else felt like him, I searched desperately for books where he could see himself.

    Books that didn’t treat autism like a tragedy. Books that celebrated neurodiversity. Books written by people who actually understood.

    We did find some good ones but not as many options as other children’s book. So Luis and I created them.

    Autism: Confidence Starts Here was born from watching Adrián struggle with self-esteem. From hearing him say “Why am I different?” and wanting to show him that different is beautiful.

    Autism: Calming the Chaos came from our meltdown struggles. From wanting to help Adrián understand what was happening in his body, and help other families respond with compassion instead of punishment.

    Autism: My Invisible Backpack addresses masking and emotional overload, things I didn’t even have language for until my own diagnosis.

    These aren’t just books we wrote. They’re tools our family uses. Adrián rereads them when he’s struggling. They’re conversation starters. They’re validation.

    That’s what I was searching for all those years ago. Stories that understood.

    What I Wish Someone Had Told Me

    If I could go back and talk to myself the day Adrián was diagnosed, here’s what I’d say:

    1. The grief is real, and it’s okay.

    You’re allowed to grieve the future you imagined. That doesn’t mean you don’t love your child. It means you’re human.

    2. Your child is not broken.

    They don’t need to be fixed. They need to be understood, supported, and celebrated for exactly who they are.

    3. You will make mistakes.

    You’ll say the wrong thing. Use outdated terminology. Push when you should have pulled back. It’s okay. Learn and adjust.

    4. Find your people.

    The parents who get it. The autistic adults who can teach you. The therapists who see your child as whole. Build that community intentionally.

    5. Trust your instincts.

    You know your child better than any expert. If something doesn’t feel right, speak up. Advocate. Push back.

    6. Celebrate differently.

    Your milestones might not match other families’. That’s okay. Every step forward, no matter how small, deserves celebration.

    7. Take care of yourself.

    You can’t support your child from a place of depletion. Rest. Ask for help. Let some things go.

    8. It gets easier.

    Not because autism goes away, but because you learn. Your child learns. You develop systems. You find your rhythm.

    9. Your child is amazing.

    Not despite being autistic. Not even because of it. Just… inherently, wonderfully, perfectly amazing as they are.

    The Journey Continues

    Adrián is 11 now. Guillermo is 5. Our journey is far from over, it’s really just beginning in so many ways.

    But we’re not where we were six years ago, drowning in confusion and fear.

    Now we have tools. Community. Understanding. Hope.

    We know Adrián’s triggers and how to support him through overwhelm.
    We’ve built routines that work for our family’s unique needs.
    We’ve connected with other families who get it.
    We’ve learned to celebrate our wins… even the tiny ones.

    And most importantly: we’ve learned to see autism not as something to overcome, but as a different way of being that deserves respect, support, and celebration.

    Resources for Your Journey

    If you’re looking for support on your autism parenting journey, here’s what has genuinely helped our family:

    We’ve created FREE downloadable resources including:

    • Visual schedule templates
    • Emotion regulation tools
    • Social story frameworks
    • Sensory profile worksheets

    You’re on that journey too. And you don’t have to walk it alone.

    With solidarity and hope,
    Dalisse (& Luis)
    Loving Pieces Books

    💙 What’s been your biggest “aha” moment on your autism parenting journey? What do you wish you’d known sooner? Share with our community, we’re all learning together. Find us on Instagram @lovingpiecesbooks or explore more resources at lovingpiecesbooks.com.