Redefining Independence: A Parent’s Journey in Raising a Non-Verbal Autistic Child

Every parent dreams of raising a child who will grow into an independent adult. For most, this journey is filled with milestones—first words, first steps, first day of school. For me, as a parent of an autistic child who is non-verbal, independence looks a little different.

It isn’t about memorizing alphabets or reciting nursery rhymes. It’s about teaching him how to ask for water when he’s thirsty, how to tell me when he’s in pain, how to chew his food properly so he doesn’t struggle with textures, and how to navigate the world in a way that is meaningful to him.

This is not about “fixing” him. This is about understanding him.

Moving Beyond Traditional Interventions

There is no single therapy, program, or intervention that works like a magic spell. What works for one autistic child might not work for another. My child doesn’t fit into neat little checkboxes of what “should” work. That’s why I am looking for an integrated approach—one that acknowledges his unique needs, strengths, and struggles while working toward one ultimate goal: self-reliance.

What Does Independence Look Like for Him?

1. Eating Well, Chewing Properly: Some children struggle with textures, some with swallowing, and some simply don’t recognize hunger cues the way neurotypical kids do. Before teaching table manners, I need to help him feel safe with food. If it means starting with finger foods, smoothies, or breaking meals into smaller parts, so be it. Independence begins with comfort and trust.

2. Taking a Bath & Dressing Himself: Sensory sensitivities make even the simplest tasks challenging. Water can feel like needles, soap can smell too strong, and fabric can feel suffocating. Instead of forcing him into these routines, I am learning to adapt them to his needs—using a shower instead of a tub, introducing clothes with soft textures, and letting him have choices in what he wears.

3. Asking for Things—Even Without Words: Communication is not just speech. It is gestures, pictures, pointing, eye contact, and even silence. My goal is to help him express his needs in a way that feels natural to him. If he can tap on a picture of a glass to tell me he wants water, that’s communication. If he can guide my hand toward a toy he wants, that’s communication. The world needs to understand that words are not the only way to speak.

4. Engaging with Strangers (Safely and Comfortably): Social interaction doesn’t come naturally to him, but that doesn’t mean he can’t participate. Instead of forcing conversations, I want to help him navigate interactions in his own way—maybe through gestures, a communication device, or even a simple nod. The goal is not to fit in but to exist in a way that works for him.

The Road Ahead: A Collaborative Effort

Raising a child with special needs is not a solo journey. It takes family, therapists, teachers, and society working together. I want to build an environment where he is not forced to adapt to the world, but where the world adapts to include him.

So, in 2025, I embark on a new phase of parenting—one where I let go of outdated expectations and embrace the small victories. Because independence for him won’t come overnight. It will come one bite of food, one button fastened, one successful request at a time.

And I will be there for every step.