Parenting Through Tactile Defensiveness

Elias holds his mother's hands for support as he stands on a blanket in a garden

It’s one of the most instinctive things a parent can do: when your child cries, you scoop them up into your arms, hold them close, whisper soothing words, and wait for the storm to pass. That’s what I do with Elias’ brother. When he's hurt or upset, he runs to me, seeking contact, safety, a familiar heartbeat.

But it’s not like that with Elias.

Elias is tactile defensive, meaning that touch — something most of us associate with comfort — can feel overwhelming for him. When he cries, my instinct is to hold and reassure him. But when I do, it often escalates his distress. The very thing I want to offer — my arms, my closeness — makes it worse.

Frankly, there is nothing that prepares you for the experience of not being able to hug your own child when they’re in pain.

Touch, for Elias, has to be on his own terms. There are rare and precious moments when he reaches out, he lays a hand on mine or melts into a cuddle at bedtime, and I hold onto those fiercely. But most days, I have to find other ways to show love. Through predictability, eye contact, or just being near.

It’s a different kind of parenting. It’s not what I imagined. And some days it hurts, especially when I’m holding one child while watching the other struggle alone just feet away.

But it has taught me something powerful: love isn’t measured by touch. It’s measured showing up. By knowing what not to do as much as what to do.

A Few Things That Make a Difference

Respect their boundaries. It sounds obvious, but it's easy to forget in emotional moments. Pause and let them lead.

Use deep pressure, not light touch. Some children tolerate firm pressure better than a light graze. Compression garments, weighted blankets, or deep-pressure massage (when welcomed) can sometimes offer comfort.

Offer alternative ways to connect. For us, it's sitting next to him allowing him to understand we're here, rather than reach out physically.

Create a sensory-friendly environment. Minimising other sensory input like bright lights, background noise, or rough fabrics can reduce overall overwhelm.

Involve an OT. Occupational therapists with sensory integration training have been invaluable in helping us understand Elias’ needs and try new approaches safely.

If you're parenting a child with tactile defensiveness or sensory differences, I am right there with you. I know how strange it feels to explain to others why your child doesn't want to be held, or why they flinch at a gentle brush of the arm. It's not rejection. It's not failure. It's just difference.

And in that difference, we find new ways to love.