CONFESSION: I lock the toy closet in my office.
It happened on a regular Tuesday.
I was setting up for sessions, the toy closet open behind me, and a child walked in, bee-lined straight to the top shelf, and dumped out every bin they could reach.
And I froze. Not because I was mad.
Not because they did anything wrong.
But because I suddenly realized…
I was letting the environment lead—not the child.
I was relying on access to give the illusion of autonomy—without providing the scaffolding to help it feel safe.
So I did something that felt radical at the time.
I locked the toy closet.
Not as a punishment.
Not to assert control.
But because I finally understood that boundaries aren’t the opposite of child-led therapy.
They’re what make it work.
“Isn’t locking the toys… the opposite of being child-led?”
I get this question a lot. And honestly? I used to ask myself the same thing.
Because for a long time, I thought “child-led” meant no boundaries.
Total freedom.
The child decides everything, and I just go along for the ride.
But over time—and through some hard, messy learning—I started to see the difference between freedom and free-for-all.
And I started to understand something that changed the way I work:
Child-led doesn’t mean chaos.
Child-led means co-regulation.
And that requires structure.
Boundaries are safety signals
Imagine walking into a new space—no clear flow, no indication of what’s okay or what might get you in trouble.
That’s not freeing. That’s stressful.
For many autistic kids, this kind of uncertainty activates the nervous system. It’s why we see darting, dumping, or refusal. Not because the child doesn’t want to engage… but because they’re not sure how to feel safe in the space.
When we offer consistent, relational boundaries—like entering the room together, starting with the same rhythm, or yes, locking the toy closet—we’re offering a signal:
“This space is safe. I’ll help you navigate it.”
“You don’t have to figure it out alone.”
“We’re in this together.”
Relationship-based limits vs. compliance-based limits
Let’s be clear: this is not about controlling behavior.
Locking the toy closet isn’t about teaching kids to “ask nicely” or “earn” access. I don’t use it to withhold preferred toys or demand compliance before connection.
Instead, the lock serves a very different purpose.
It’s a relational boundary that communicates:
“We’ll enter the space together.”
“We’ll choose things together.”
“You don’t have to manage everything on your own.”
When kids know they can trust us to create a predictable, respectful flow—they often relax. They stop feeling like they need to grab or guard or escape. Because the pressure is off.
They’re not expected to control the room.
We’re holding that structure for them.
Here’s how the toy closet works in practice:
The closet is locked before the child arrives.
This signals a pause—not a power play.
We walk into the room together.
I let the child explore the visible toys and environment first.
When they show interest or look toward the closet, I say,
“Oh, you want to see what’s in the closet? Let’s open it together.”
I open it with them—not for them.
And I stay nearby, co-regulating as they choose.
Nothing is ever withheld.
It’s not about limiting access—it’s about sharing presence.
That small shift—walking into the space together—has changed everything.
Being child-led isn’t about stepping back.
It’s about walking with.
I used to think my job was to get out of the way.
But the more I leaned into relationship-based boundaries, the more I realized—these kids don’t need me to disappear. They need me to be present.
To notice what they’re communicating.
To hold the space for their exploration.
To create conditions where their autonomy can actually breathe.
And for me? That started with locking the toy closet.
Takeaway:
Boundaries aren’t barriers to autonomy.
They’re the scaffolding that lets it grow.
When they’re clear, kind, and consistent—boundaries become invitations.
They tell the child:
You matter.
I’ll meet you where you are.
And I’ll hold the space so you can show up as you.
That’s not compliance. That’s connection.
And that’s what being child-led really means.
Want to hear more about my boundaries in child-led therapy? Check out Let Them Lead: The Child Led Autism Podcast episode 9!
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