WIBTA if I ask an autistic person to stay away from my baby?

A 23-year-old mother, still recovering emotionally and physically from a deeply traumatic pregnancy and delivery, turned to her familiar church community for support and healing while raising her infant daughter, who was born with a congenital limb difference – her arm ending below the elbow.

The congregation had always felt like home, a place of acceptance and faith that became even more vital after the life-changing events of the birth. But the arrival of a new member, an autistic woman in her early 20s, shifted things uncomfortably. What began as welcoming inclusion quickly became a source of recurring distress through persistent, uninvited physical contact and pessimistic remarks about the baby’s future.

‘WIBTA if I ask an autistic person to stay away from my baby?’

The story centers on a 23-year-old mom cherishing her miracle baby after a high-risk pregnancy:

The issue arose with repeated unwanted physical contact and comments:

The toll became too much:

The edit adds context on her efforts:

Protecting a child’s physical and emotional space is a core parental duty, especially for vulnerable infants who can’t advocate for themselves. Unwanted touching, even if not malicious, violates basic consent, and repeated negative commentary can deeply wound a parent already navigating trauma and fears.

Autism can affect social cue reading and impulse control, but it doesn’t erase the need for boundaries or learning appropriate behavior. Many autistic individuals thrive with clear, direct communication rather than hints – subtlety often gets missed, leading to unintended persistence.

Experts like Dr. Temple Grandin, an autistic advocate and author, emphasize that autistic people benefit from explicit instructions on social norms. In “The Autistic Brain,” she discusses how direct feedback helps build understanding without relying on unspoken rules. Ableism can also appear within disabled communities, where internalized negativity projects outward.

The healthiest approach involves firm, kind clarity: stating exact boundaries, involving church leaders if needed for support, and prioritizing the family’s well-being. Parents model advocacy for their children by enforcing respect, while compassion allows room for others to learn.

Here’s what Redditors had to say:

The online community overwhelmingly supported the mom’s right to protect her child, stressing direct boundaries over subtle hints:

A protective mom faced repeated boundary violations at her place of worship, weighing compassion against her child’s well-being and her own emotional health. Ultimately, setting clear limits protects everyone involved, even if it feels uncomfortable at first.

What boundaries feel essential when someone approaches your child uninvited? How might direct communication change an interaction that’s currently causing pain, and who could help mediate if needed?