Selective Mutism and Self-Harm. Erin’s Story.
💔 I Didn’t Speak at School. So My Body Spoke for Me | Erin's Story. Selective mutism and self-harm
When I was at school, I didn’t talk.
Not out of choice, but because I physically couldn’t.
Every time I tried, something inside froze.
I was labelled “the quiet one.”
Polite. Obedient. Low maintenance.
But what no one saw was how hard I was trying just to survive the school day.
I didn’t know I was autistic.
I didn’t know what selective mutism was.
And I definitely didn’t have the words to say “I’m not okay.”
But silence doesn’t mean everything’s fine.
So my body found another way to communicate the pain I couldn’t voice:
I began to self-harm.
It was the only outlet I had.
Not for attention, but for release.
Not to shock anyone, but because I didn’t know how else to cope.
Looking back, I realise now that my self-harm was a language.
A signal. A scream.
Because no one had ever asked why the “quiet girl” might be suffering too.And here’s the thing:
When a child can’t speak, their behaviour becomes their voice.
Self-harm wasn’t attention-seeking.
It was connection-seeking.
It was the only way I knew how to say,
“I’m overwhelmed.”
“I’m scared.”
“Please help me.”
In a world where I couldn’t use words, pain became my punctuation.
Every mark had meaning.
Every act held emotion that couldn’t be expressed any other way.
That doesn’t make it right or safe —
but it does make it real.
And it’s why we need to treat self-harm not just as a behaviour to manage —
but as a message to understand.
No child should have to hurt themselves to be heard.
But if they are, we must listen with compassion — not punishment or shame.
Because all behaviour is communication.
And every silent scream deserves a response.
🧠 Self-harm isn’t always loud.
It isn’t always visible.
And it doesn’t always come from the people you expect. I was smiling through the pain. The 4th photo shows that....
If you work in a school, support young people, or care for a child who seems “just shy”…
Please listen to what isn’t being said.
I now know I’m autistic. I’ve learned tools to help me speak up, in my own way.
But there are so many children still in that silent place, feeling trapped in their heads and their bodies.
This post is for them. 💛
And for the adults who might just be the one to notice.
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