Why Consistency Matters: Our ABA Journey with Our Son
When we first received the autism diagnosis for our son, J, it felt like the floor had dropped out from under us. Not because we loved him any less—he was still our brilliant, funny, affectionate boy—but because we suddenly had a map with no compass. We were thrust into a world of acronyms, waiting lists, and endless appointments.
Among the many recommendations we received, Applied Behavior Analysis (ABA) was at the top of the list. We were told it was the "gold standard." We were told it would help with communication and emotional regulation. But nobody told us just how much the specific therapist matters.
Our journey hasn't been a straight line. We’ve had high highs and incredibly frustrating lows. If you are a parent currently navigating the early stages of therapies, or if you are stuck with a provider that doesn't feel right, I want to share our story. We went from a chaotic situation that hindered J's progress to finding a therapist who has become a crucial part of our village.
The Revolving Door of Therapists
We started ABA therapy when J was four years old. At that age, J was struggling significantly with transitions and communication frustration. We were desperate for help and signed up with the first agency that had an opening.
That was our first mistake, though we didn't know it at the time.
The agency treated therapy slots like shifts at a fast-food restaurant. We would get a schedule, and almost every week, a different person would show up at our door. Sometimes we wouldn't even get a warning; a stranger would just knock, clipboard in hand, ready to work with our sensory-sensitive four-year-old.
For a child who craves routine and predictability, this was a disaster.
J would spend the first half of the session just trying to figure out who this new person was. He was anxious. He would hide behind the sofa. By the time he warmed up even slightly, the session was over. The next week, the cycle would start all over again with someone new.
It was exhausting for us as parents, but it was unfair to J. How could he learn complex emotional regulation skills from someone he didn't even know? We saw zero progress during those months. In fact, we saw regression. He became more withdrawn because his safe space—our home—was being invaded by a rotating cast of strangers.
Finding Stability and "The One"
We knew we had to make a change. We pulled J out of that program and began interviewing new providers with a very specific set of questions. We didn't care about their fancy brochures anymore. We asked: "Who will be working with him? Will it be the same person every time? What happens if that person is sick?"
That is how we found our current therapist.
From the first week, the difference was night and day. She showed up on time. She was the same person on Tuesday as she was on Thursday. She didn't try to force J to sit at a table immediately. She got down on the floor. She played with his favorite trains. She let him lead.
Because she was consistent, J learned to trust her. He realized that this person wasn't going to disappear the next week. That trust is the foundation of everything they have achieved since. Now, when she arrives, J doesn't hide. He runs to the door.
What Does an ABA Therapist Actually Do?
Before we lived it, I had a vague idea of what ABA was. I thought it was just sitting at a table doing drills. While that might be true for some old-school approaches, good modern ABA is much more naturalistic. Watching our therapist work with J has been an education for us as parents.
Here is a look at what the work actually looks like and how it helps kids on the spectrum.
Data Collection and Observation
One thing you will notice immediately is that they take a lot of notes. Our therapist tracks everything—not to judge J, but to understand him. If he has a meltdown, she looks at the "antecedent" (what happened right before). Was the room too loud? Was he hungry? Did we ask him to stop a preferred activity?
By collecting this data, she helps us spot patterns we missed. We learned that J gets overstimulated by multiple people talking at once, which was triggering outbursts before dinner. We adjusted the environment, and the outbursts stopped.
Building Communication Skills
J has words, but he struggles to use them when he is upset. Our therapist works tirelessly on functional communication. This isn't just about labeling colors or animals; it's about advocating for needs.
She sets up scenarios where he needs to ask for help rather than getting frustrated. They practice phrases like "I need a break" or "My turn, please." It sounds simple, but for J, having a script to use when he is overwhelmed is a lifeline.
Breaking Down Complex Tasks
This is where ABA really shines. Therapists are experts at taking a big, scary task and breaking it down into tiny, manageable steps.
Take hand-washing, for example. For J, the sensory experience of water, soap, and towels, combined with the sequencing, was too much. Our therapist broke it down:
Turn on water.
Wet hands.
Pump soap.
Rub hands.
Rinse.
Dry.
They worked on just step one for a while. Then step one and two. She used visual prompts and consistent praise. Now, J washes his hands independently. It gave him a sense of autonomy that made him so proud.
Positive Reinforcement
You hear a lot about "rewards" in ABA. In our experience, this isn't about bribing a child like you would a puppy. It's about motivation. Our therapist figured out what makes J tick. Sometimes it's a specific toy, but often it's just enthusiastic praise or a high-five.
She celebrates the wins, no matter how small. That positivity builds J's confidence. He learns that trying hard leads to good feelings.
The Importance of Parental Involvement
One thing our current therapist emphasized early on is that she isn't a babysitter. She is a coach for J, but she is also a coach for us.
In the bad agency days, the therapists would come in, do their time, and leave without barely saying a word to us. Our current therapist spends the last 15 minutes of every session talking to us. She shows us what they worked on. She explains why she reacted a certain way to a behavior.
She empowered us to carry the strategies over into the weekend. We aren't therapists, but having consistency between what happens in session and what happens at dinner time has accelerated J's progress. We are all on the same team, using the same language.
It’s a Marathon, Not a Sprint
J is still autistic. ABA didn't "cure" him, nor did we want it to. He is still the same wonderful, quirky, train-obsessed boy he was at four. But he is a happier, more confident version of himself.
He can handle changes in routine without a total collapse. He can tell us when he is hungry or tired. He can play a board game and take turns. These might seem like small victories to some, but to us, they are monumental.
If you are looking for an ABA therapist, my advice is this: trust your gut. If you feel like the agency is disorganized, or if your child is reacting negatively to the lack of consistency, it is okay to leave. It is okay to demand better.
You are the expert on your child. The therapist provides the tools, but the relationship between the therapist and the child is the vehicle for change. Once we found the right vehicle, J finally started moving forward.
