Thinking of You

The Human Center of Adult Influence

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Thinking of you.

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These were the words my mother wrote to my children when they were young. Simple words, but loving ones.

I know now that these words are more than sentiment. They name a mindset and, at a deeper level, an action stance.

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Thinking of you rooted my parenting. It shaped how I tried to affirm each of my children, hold their needs in mind, and guide them through everyday life. It became especially vital in parenting my autistic son.

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Thinking of you is a way of seeing the other person as real — as valuable, connected, capable, and worthy of being held in mind.

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To be thought of in this way is a deeply human need. It matters in childhood and adulthood, in disability support and elder care, in family life and professional practice, and in moments of teaching, caregiving, listening, helping, and loving. Across different roles and relationships, the question is often the same: is this person being held in mind?

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Before we support another person well, we have to think of them.

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Not as a problem to solve.
Not as someone to control.
Not as a plan, goal, behavior, or task.

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But as a person.

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Their experience. Their strengths. Their preferences. Their communication. Their dignity. Their need for belonging. Their right to agency. Their wellbeing. Their way of moving through the world.

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This is the heart of empathy and compassion. It is the heart of person-centered thinking, individualized support, ethical behavior analysis, neuroaffirming practice, Home and Community-Based Services, parenting, caregiving, and adult influence.

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Adult influence is powerful. Parents, professionals, paraprofessionals, DSPs, siblings, teachers, therapists, and caregivers all shape environments. We shape routines. We shape expectations. We shape opportunities. We shape whether a moment becomes controlling or supportive, rushed or respectful, disconnected or meaningful.

 

That influence can easily become about our agenda: finish the task; stop the behavior; follow the plan; meet the goal; get through the routine; keep the schedule moving. Those things may matter. Tasks matter. Safety matters.

Goals matter. Routines matter.

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But beneath them all, the question must remain:

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Am I thinking of you?

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Am I thinking of what this moment feels like from your side?

Am I thinking of what you understand, what you notice, what you may be missing, and what you may be trying to communicate?

Am I thinking of your autonomy, not just your compliance?

Am I thinking of your participation, not just your performance?

Am I thinking of your dignity, not just the outcome I want?

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At its deepest level, thinking of you is not passive. It is not simply a warm feeling.

It is an action stance.

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It changes what we notice.
It changes how we interpret behavior.
It changes how we support participation.

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It asks us to pause before acting and consider the person.

 

What is this moment?
What matters right now?
What is my next step to support participation with dignity?

 

Those questions can reshape ordinary moments.

 

A parent helping a child participate in family life.
A teacher supporting a student who is overwhelmed.
A therapist choosing a meaningful goal.
A DSP standing beside someone in the community.
A sibling making space in a shared routine.
A community supporter helping a person join a shared activity with dignity.
An adult child remembering the quiet language of love.

 

Thinking of you is simple. But it is not small.

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It is the beginning.

 

Before we teach, support, prompt, plan, or guide, we can begin there.

 

Thinking of you.