Lyba Laraib
I am Lyba Laraib, a psychologist, a mother, and a wife. In my practice, I have walked alongside families navigating the beautiful, complex world of autism. But becoming a mother myself taught me what it truly means to protect a child who experiences life so intensely. This is for every mother who has ever felt unseen and for the fierce, tender love that carries us through.
There is a moment when a mother realizes her child sees the world through a different window. For some, it comes with a diagnosis. For others, it’s a slow dawn of understanding that their little one hears life on a different frequency.
As a psychologist, I have sat with countless mothers navigating this terrain. As a mother, I know no textbook prepares you for the love that rises when you realize your child needs you to be their translator, their advocate, their safest harbor.
The Invisible Shield
We learn to read the subtle cues, hands covering ears before the world grows too loud, the meltdown that is not a tantrum but a desperate plea for release. We hold our child’s hand tighter in crowded places, not because they are lost, but because the world is a maze of overwhelming sounds and expectations.
This is our invisible armor. We advocate for quiet spaces, understanding teachers, compassionate doctors. We become warriors in school meetings, armed with research and a mother’s intuition smiling, while masking the ache of knowing our child walks a path uniquely their own.
Not Fixing, But Freeing
Society often expects mothers to “fix” their autistic children. But our children are not broken puzzles. They are whole beings with hearts that love fiercely and minds that soar. Our protection is not about changing who they are, it is about creating a world safe enough for them to unfold.
The Hardest Lesson
Protection is not possession. We cannot bubble-wrap our children, nor should we. Our task is to teach them they are strong enough to weather storms and that we will always be their shelter. We must trust that the same sensitivity that overwhelms them also makes them gifted at tenderness, creativity, and profound, unfiltered love.
For You, Dear Mother
To the mother who feels unseen, I see you. The tears in the shower, the exhaustion behind your smile, the sleepless nights. I see the beauty too,the joy in your child’s eyes, the warmth of their hand, the milestones you celebrate with a bursting heart.
You are a lighthouse, steady and bright, guiding your child through a world that often feels like a tempest. On days you feel empty, remember, your love is not measured by how much you do, but by how deeply you feel. And you feel so deeply. That is your gift. That is your grace.
Autism is not a tragedy. It is a different way of being. The journey is not easy, but it is holy.
Keep going, dear mother. Your love is the shield. Your intuition is the map. And your child, with all their glorious difference, is the reason.
With warmth,
Lyba Laraib
Psychologist, Mother, and fellow traveler on this winding road.
