AITA for wanting to allow a girl to use my hand sanitizer?
A 20-year-old woman working at an after-school program has been helping a 7- or 8-year-old girl with sensory issues who becomes overwhelmed by the strong smell and texture of the school’s standard hand sanitizer. One day, the worker offered her own milder, watermelon-scented Touchland sanitizer from Ulta, which calmed the girl immediately. She told the child she could ask for it anytime.
When the girl requested it again, the coworker intervened, insisting the girl use the school’s version and learn she “can’t always get what she wants,” even after the child calmly explained her aversion. The worker believes accommodating this small sensory need is compassionate, especially since she’s neurodivergent herself and understands the struggle. Her coworker argues it sets a bad precedent. She asks if she’s wrong for continuing to let the girl use her personal sanitizer.
‘AITA for wanting to allow a girl to use my hand sanitizer?’
The girl melts down over the school sanitizer’s smell and texture.
The girl asks again, but the coworker shuts it down.
The worker sees this as compassion, not spoiling.
The girl’s calm explanation of her aversion shows self-awareness and maturity for her age; dismissing it with “I don’t care” invalidates her experience and teaches her that her needs don’t matter. Hand sanitizer is a hygiene necessity, but forcing an aversive version can trigger distress, meltdowns, or avoidance of hygiene routines altogether. Offering a tolerable alternative (milder scent, better texture) is a reasonable accommodation that promotes compliance and emotional regulation, not entitlement.
The coworker’s concern about precedent is valid in theory—consistency matters—but this case involves a specific sensory issue, not a general demand. Blanket refusal ignores individual differences and risks escalating the child’s anxiety around hygiene. The worker’s neurodivergence gives her valuable insight, not bias; empathy informed by personal experience is a strength in caregiving roles.
Long-term, discussing the girl’s needs with parents and possibly the program coordinator would ensure consistent support. Small adaptations like this build trust and help children feel seen rather than controlled. Prioritizing a child’s emotional well-being during routine tasks is not spoiling—it’s good pedagogy.
Here’s the feedback from the Reddit community:
Nearly everyone supported the worker, praising her empathy and calling the coworker harsh and lacking understanding.
Many highlighted the coworker’s dismissive attitude and urged protecting the girl’s needs.
A couple offered practical suggestions while agreeing the worker was right.
This after-school worker offered a simple, effective solution to help a young girl manage a sensory aversion to standard hand sanitizer—yet her coworker dismissed it as spoiling and insisted the child “learn” she can’t always get her way. The community overwhelmingly supported the worker’s empathy, viewing the coworker’s response as unnecessarily harsh and potentially harmful to the child’s emotional well-being. The story shows how small accommodations can make a big difference in supporting kids with sensory needs without undermining discipline.
Have you worked with children who have sensory sensitivities? Do you think staff should make small adjustments like offering different hand sanitizer, or stick strictly to group rules? Would you have allowed the girl to use the personal sanitizer, or backed the coworker? Share your experiences and thoughts in the comments below.
