I’m not a therapist, medical professional, or legal expert. I’m a parent sharing lived experience and personal perspective, not professional advice.
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(It’s not always about lining up toy cars)
It’s Not Always the Obvious Signs
There’s this weird assumption that spotting autism in your child is like ticking off a checklist. No eye contact. Obsessed with trains. Doesn’t talk. Lines up all the toys. Boom, autistic.
That’s not how it went for us.
For our eldest, the first thing wasn’t any of those signs. It was that she got very attached to people. Like, right-up-in-their-personal-space attached. She’d try to sit in a stranger’s lap at soft play or follow another child around telling them exactly what to say in their game. Her favourite game, the only game really, was “teachers.” She was always the teacher. You? You’re the naughty child. Sit there and read the laminated feelings chart.
She couldn’t really tell what was real and what wasn’t. I remember her asking at seven years old, in the middle of a theatre show, “Is this real life?” And she meant it.
With our son, it was more physical. He chewed everything. His fingers. Toys. His own cheeks. Rubbed stuff on his face constantly. It wasn’t just a teething phase. It was full-on sensory seeking. These helped a lot, by the way: sensory chews.
And then there were the transitions. He’d fight like mad not to leave somewhere. Kick, bite, scratch to avoid going somewhere he didn’t want to be. And if he wanted to go somewhere, he’d leg it like a cartoon character.
She, on the other hand, would cling like a baby koala. I’ve had to be physically peeled away from her at times when other kids were merrily making their way in. Full body grab. Tears. Bribery. Sometimes all of us crying. Didn’t seem to matter if it was somewhere she wanted to go, she would still really struggle to go.
What Autism Really Looks Like
“You don’t need to match every single sign of autism for your child to get support.”
Have you heard of the Coke Bottle Effect?
Here’s the bit school never saw. At school, they were “fine.” Bit unsure, maybe, but they “settled quickly.”
We’d get them back home and they were like shaken-up Coke bottles with the lid finally off.
Meltdowns. Screaming. Clinging. Refusing to do anything. I now know this is really common in autistic kids, especially ones who mask at school. They hold it in all day trying to fit in, then let loose at home where they feel safe enough to fall apart.
If I could take every “Signs of Autism” checklist on the internet and set it on fire, I probably would. Because here’s the truth:
Not all autistic kids line things up.
Not all of them avoid eye contact.
Some of them are super chatty, especially about their interests.
Some of them look like they’re coping for hours, then collapse in private.
This is especially true for girls and kids who mask. Our daughter had years of people saying “she’s just shy” while we watched her crumble behind closed doors. And our son? “Boys are just like that.” Except they’re not. Not like this.
Masking is when an autistic person copies what they think is the “right” way to act. Eye contact. Smiling. Sitting still. Responding to their name. It takes a lot of effort. It is not sustainable. And it often leads to mental health struggles because they are constantly suppressing who they are.
There’s a great article here about masking that I wish I’d found earlier:
Autism and Masking from the National Autistic Society
You Don’t Have to Tick Every Box
Let me say this loud and clear.
You don’t need to match every single sign of autism for your child to get support.
You don’t even need a diagnosis to ask for help at school. If your child is struggling, that’s enough.
- I’ve heard every line in the book:
- “He’ll grow out of it.”
- “She’s just sensitive.”
- “They’re just toddlers.”
- Even (this is usually first), “Are you sure it’s not just your parenting?”
I was knackered, constantly worried, and trying my absolute best. What I needed was someone to say:
“You’re not imagining it. You’re not a bad parent. Let’s figure this out.”
So, How Do You Know?
Here’s the truth. You might not. Not at first. You might just have a feeling that something doesn’t add up. That your child is struggling more than their peers. That things that seem easy for others are massive for you.
You don’t need a label to take that seriously.
You Don’t Need All the Answers to Ask for Help
If you’ve started Googling or reading this kind of post, then something in your gut is nudging you. And I’m here to say trust that. Trust yourself.
Even after we got diagnoses for our kids, I still doubted myself. We didn’t always know what was going on. We just knew that they were struggling, and it wasn’t going away.
This post isn’t here to tell you yes or no, because I’m not a doctor. And even the doctors don’t always get it right the first time. But it is here to say this:
If your kid is finding life hard, they deserve support. And you’re allowed to ask for it.
Next up, we’re talking about what to do when school doesn’t believe you. Because I’ve been there. And it’s not fun.
Got any “they’re fine at school but explode at home” stories? Hit the comments or message me on Instagram. I’ll bring the biscuits.

A transgender Dad in the UK. Bringing up 6 kids with my lovely wife. When I’ m not blogging or TikToking, you’ll usually find me in the garden.




