I’m a parent of two neurodivergent kids. Over the years, we’ve tried just about everything, including years of ABA therapy. I’m not here to say we never saw progress, because we did. My kids learned new skills, followed directions, and sometimes looked more “typical” on paper. But what I didn’t realize at the time was how much we were losing in the process.
When we first started, it felt like the right thing to do. Doctors recommended it. Insurance covered it. Everyone said it was the gold standard. And like most parents, I wanted to help my kids in every way I could.
We started small, then added more hours. Before long, we were doing over 15 hours of ABA a week. Life started to revolve around therapy schedules, behavior charts, and constant feedback. Every part of our day was measured, tracked, or analyzed.
At first, I told myself this was progress. But as time went on, I noticed something unsettling. My kids were learning how to please adults, not how to understand themselves. They were following directions, but not always for the right reasons. They were tired, disconnected, and anxious.
I started to wonder, why are we doing so much? Who benefits from all these hours? the kids, or the system???
That’s when I began to see the bigger picture.
ABA was the one therapy everyone pushed because it was the easiest to access. Doctors prescribed it because it was covered by insurance. Insurance companies covered it because it was cheaper to staff and scale. And parents like me were caught in the middle, trying to believe that more hours meant more help.
But that’s not how real growth works. My kids didn’t need more drills, they needed more connection. They needed people who understood sensory needs, communication differences, and emotional regulation, not just people who wanted to change their behavior.
After years inside the ABA system, I’ve learned this: just because something is common doesn’t mean it’s right for your family. The “gold standard” might look good on paper, but it doesn’t always fit the child sitting in front of you.
Sometimes the best thing you can do as a parent is to pause, ask questions, and trust what you see in your child’s eyes instead of what’s written on a data sheet.
