When You See the Behavior, Look for the Sensory Roots

Alex is not just explosive. He is anxious, fearful, and easily triggered, always on a hair’s edge. He can enjoy a place like Chuck E. Cheese for an hour, then suddenly hide in the bathroom, unable to handle another minute. This is not because he is “too sensitive” in some casual, dismissive sense. It is because every sound, every movement, every shift in the environment lands in his nervous system like a blow.

The Classroom Minefield

The typical classroom is not a neutral place for him. It is an auditory and sensory minefield. There are the background noises: echoes bouncing off the walls, the scrape of chairs, the whispers, the shuffle of feet, the high-pitched whistle of a hearing aid or microphone system, the teacher’s voice cutting in and out through a poorly adjusted FM system

At lunch, there is the roar of the cafeteria, the smell of old food baked into the walls, the unpredictable texture of grapes that are sometimes crisp, sometimes mushy. The uniform adds another layer of discomfort: the polo shirt collar that rubs the neck, the chinos that pull at the knees, the shoes that squeeze just enough to start a blister.

He always feels a little off balance, a little clumsy, and is convinced everyone is mocking him. His social skills are not strong enough to realize they are not paying attention at all.

Layering the Sensory Load

Add misophonia, hyperacusis, and misokinesia into the mix. Not only is he overwhelmed by sound, he is distracted or even enraged by repetitive movements in his peripheral vision — someone bouncing a leg, twirling a pencil, tapping a finger. His brain is constantly pulled away from the lesson to monitor and brace for the next sensory intrusion.

If his hearing loss is asymmetric or fluctuating, spatial hearing is unreliable. The brain cannot easily match what the ears hear with what the eyes see. Research shows that eardrum movement is linked to gaze direction, so when the cues are out of sync, the world feels unstable. Vestibular and proprioceptive issues add another layer. Babies are most startled by loud noises and by being dropped. Loud noises are auditory. Being dropped is vestibular. If his vestibular sense is shaky — perhaps from repeated ear infections during development — that feeling of “being dropped” can live in his body for years, keeping him in a constant micro-startle state.

The Developmental Impact

When you do not have consistent access to language, you cannot learn social skills the same way other children do. You cannot read about them because you cannot focus long enough. You cannot listen without getting triggered by the environment. What looks like an attention problem is actually an attention allocation problem.

All his cognitive energy is spent scanning for threats. And when you cannot break out of that loop, you cannot build theory of mind — the understanding that other people have different experiences and perspectives. You see each person as a lighthouse, their beam sweeping across your senses, and you are constantly trying to dodge the light. You cannot get far enough outside yourself to wonder what someone else might be thinking or feeling.

Misinterpreted Behavior

And yet we ask him to sit for hours in a wooden chair, listening to an FM system he cannot control, amplifying not only the teacher’s voice but also the shuffling, whispering, and random mic thumps. We expect him to perform “self-regulation” while flooded by triggers he cannot escape.

Is it any wonder he would rather sit at home, headphones on, playing Minecraft, eating his three safe foods that always taste the same? Is it any wonder he gets angry when anyone tries to take that safe space away?

Before labeling him with oppositional defiance or pathological demand avoidance — which I prefer to call persistent demand for autonomy — we should be asking the real questions. Is he autistic? Is he ADHD? Does he have auditory processing disorder? Visual processing disorder? Misophonia, hyperacusis, or misokinesia? Autism is not a behavior problem. It is a sensory processing difference that can involve multiple systems at once, and when those systems do not align, the resulting overload can easily be misread as willful defiance.

My Perspective and My Work

I am an autistic and ADHD audiologist. My area of special interest is how neurodivergence interacts with sensory processing, and how that affects language development. I have worked with thousands of patients and I do not have the patience to watch another generation fall through the cracks. Many of these kids are not broken. They are too intelligent, too perceptive, too good at pattern finding, too frequently triggered, and in some cases, too sick early in life to have developed along the typical path. There are ways to help them catch up without years of therapy. There are ways to make them feel safe, to give them accommodations and scaffolding that meet them where they are.

My own son was nonverbal until three and a half. Now he is a highly articulate twelve-year-old, autistic and ADHD like me, and is gifted and hyperlexic with a gestalt language processing style. I learned firsthand that listening to gifted autistic voices matters. Our spiky profiles give us insights no one else would think to look for.

I work with hearing aids, auditory processing testing, and collaborative strategies alongside occupational therapists, speech-language pathologists, psychologists, and pediatricians. If it falls outside my main areas, I do not charge for my time. Consultations are always free. This is not about generosity. I grew up with these issues, and so did my son. I have been fortunate, and I want to give back. Dayenu — the Hebrew prayer that says “it would have been enough” — reflects how I feel. I have enough. That is why I can give without needing anything in return.

Closing

I am not the protagonist in these stories. I am just someone who refuses to look away when a child is falling through the cracks. I want to be part of the solution, part of the safety net. And if you are looking for someone to talk through the sensory side of your child’s behavior, or your own, I am here.