As both a BCBA and a mom, there are moments that completely change how I think about behavior.
One of those moments happens almost every day in our house.
My six-year-old daughter, who is autistic, often doesn't realize she has to use the bathroom until she really has to go. To someone looking from the outside, it might seem like she's "waiting too long," "not paying attention," or "being stubborn."
But that's not what's happening.
Her body simply isn't sending her brain the message early enough.
The more I learned about interoception, the more I realized this wasn't just something she experiences.
I do too.
As an adult, I regularly become irritable, lose focus, or feel exhausted before I suddenly realize, "Oh... I haven't eaten all day." My body doesn't reliably tell me when I'm hungry until I'm already well past the point where most people would have noticed.
Neither of us is doing anything wrong.
Our brains are simply processing internal body signals differently.
So... What Is Interoception?
Think of your brain as receiving text messages from your body all day long.
Your stomach texts:
«"Hey, we're getting hungry."»
Your bladder sends:
«"We should probably find a bathroom soon."»
Your lungs say:
«"Take a deep breath."»
Your muscles report:
«"We're getting tired."»
For many people, these messages arrive clearly and gradually.
For others, the messages are delayed, very quiet, confusing, or sometimes feel like they never arrive at all.
That ability to notice and understand what's happening inside your body is called interoception.
Scientists describe interoception as the brain's system for sensing internal body signals—things like hunger, thirst, needing the bathroom, temperature, pain, fatigue, heartbeat, and even some emotions. Instead of only paying attention to what's happening around us, our brain is also constantly monitoring what's happening inside us.
Why Does This Matter?
When a child struggles with interoception, adults sometimes misinterpret what they're seeing.
A child who has an accident may be labeled as lazy.
A child who melts down before lunch may be called defiant.
A child who suddenly refuses an activity may actually be exhausted, overheated, overwhelmed, or in pain.
The behavior isn't the problem.
The body is communicating in the only way it knows how.
What Neuroaffirming Support Looks Like
A neuroaffirming approach doesn't assume children should simply "listen to their bodies."
Instead, we recognize that their bodies may not be sending clear signals in the first place.
Rather than expecting awareness that isn't there yet, we gently build supports around them.
Some examples include:
- Following predictable bathroom routines instead of waiting for a child to say they need to go.
- Offering regular opportunities for meals and snacks rather than relying on hunger cues.
- Using visual schedules that include body-care activities.
- Helping children learn the language of body sensations without forcing them to identify feelings before they're ready.
- Staying curious instead of assuming noncompliance.
With my daughter, we often say:
"I know your body doesn't feel like it has to go right now, but let's go sit on the potty before we leave for school and sing a song together."
I'm not trying to convince her she's wrong.
I'm helping her build an external support for something that is difficult for her internal system to notice.
I do something similar for myself.
Instead of waiting until I feel hungry, I connect eating to the time of day.
It's 2:00 p.m.?
Time to check in.
Maybe I'm not feeling hungry, but my body probably still needs fuel.
Those routines aren't a crutch.
They're an accommodation.
Compassion Changes Everything
Once you understand interoception, so many behaviors begin to make sense.
Children aren't giving us a hard time.
Many are simply having a hard time understanding what their own bodies are trying to say.
When we shift from asking,
"Why won't they just listen to their body?"
to
"What support does their body need?"
everything changes.
Our expectations become more realistic.
Our strategies become more compassionate.
Our children feel understood instead of judged.
And maybe, just maybe, we stop judging ourselves too.
Whether you're a parent, teacher, therapist, or an adult who has always wondered why your body seems to work differently, know this:
You are not broken.
Your child is not broken.
Sometimes the messages are just quieter.
And with understanding, accommodations, and compassion, we can help bridge the gap between the body and the brain.
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