My Mom Tried to ‘Fix’ Me with Holy Water — She Didn’t Know I Was Autistic
Turns out, holy water doesn’t cure autism.
One time, during a meltdown, my mom threw holy water on me. She didn’t know I was autistic — she just thought something was wrong with me.
I was overwhelmed, spiraling in a way I couldn’t control. My thoughts were racing, sounds were too loud, and my body felt like it was buzzing with panic. I didn’t have the words to explain what was happening, and she didn’t have the understanding to see it for what it was. To her, I was distressed in a way that seemed unnatural — even scary. So, she reached for what she thought might help: holy water.
I remember the cold splash hitting my face and the sting of confusion that followed. I was crying harder now, not because of the water itself, but because her reaction made me feel like I was something to be fixed. Like I was broken.
She wasn’t trying to hurt me. In her mind, she was helping. My mom didn’t know about autism back then. No one had explained sensory overload or meltdowns to her. All she saw was her child unraveling in a way she couldn’t understand. So she turned to what she believed had power when everything else seemed helpless.
For a long time, that moment stuck with me. It felt like proof that I was too much — too intense, too strange, too broken. But over time, I realized something else: her reaction wasn’t about me being wrong; it was about her being afraid.
When my mom finally learned about autism, things started to make more sense. We both began to understand that my meltdowns weren’t outbursts to control but my brain desperately trying to process too much at once. She learned that I wasn’t rejecting her love; I was overwhelmed and needed space to feel safe.
Looking back, I can see now that her holy water moment wasn’t about fixing me — it was about her fear. Fear of losing control, fear of not knowing how to help, fear that something bigger than her was happening. But I didn’t need saving — I needed understanding. I needed her to sit with me in the storm instead of trying to chase it away.
If you’ve ever felt like someone tried to “fix” you when all you needed was acceptance, you’re not alone. Sometimes people respond from fear instead of love. But when they finally understand — when they see you — that’s where healing begins.
AutismAcceptance was originally published in ResilientMinds on Medium, where people are continuing the conversation by highlighting and responding to this story.