12/04/2026
What are Tics?
Something small, something you can almost ignore, until you can’t.
A movement, A sound. Something that repeats. At first you wonder if it’s a habit, a phase, something they’ll grow out of. But over time, it becomes clear this isn’t something they’re choosing. This is something their body is doing on its own.
Tics are sudden, involuntary movements or sounds. They can look like blinking, head jerking, shoulder movements, or sound like throat clearing, noises, words. They can come and go, change over time, get stronger with stress, anxiety, excitement, or tiredness. And the hardest part is, they can’t just stop.
You watch them try. You see the tension build in their body,like something rising that needs to come out, and then it does. Again and again. Even when they don’t want it to. Even when they’re exhausted.
They feel it. The discomfort before it happens. The release after. The soreness from repeating the same movement over and over. The headaches. The tiredness. The feeling of their own body not quite listening to them.
They notice the looks. The questions. The difference. And as a parent, you feel it too. Because it’s not just worry. It’s grief. A quiet, silent kind of grief. Not for who they are , because they are everything ,but for how hard the world might be for them. For the moments you can’t protect them from. For the frustration they carry. For the times they feel embarrassed, overwhelmed, or misunderstood.
You grieve the ease you hoped they’d have. The simplicity you imagined for them. And you carry that quietly, while still showing up, still supporting, still holding everything together.
There’s a helplessness in it. Watching your child struggle in their own body, seeing them tired, sore, frustrated,and not being able to take it away. You would carry it for them if you could.
And it takes its toll. The constant worry. The mental load. The feeling of always needing to be alert, to be ready, to be there. It sits with you in a way that’s hard to switch off. But you keep going. You learn. You adapt. You advocate. You stay beside them through all of it.
Because behind all of this is a child doing their best in a body that won’t always cooperate… and a parent doing everything they can, even when it hurts, even when it feels heavy, even when it’s a kind of grief that no one else really sees.