When I was a kid, I used to tap my fingers against my desk in school, over and over again, like a rhythm only I could hear. My teacher would snap, “Stop fidgeting!” My classmates would roll their eyes.
But I couldn’t stop.
Stimming—short for self-stimulatory behavior—is a part of who I am. It’s how I express emotions, how I calm myself, how I connect to the world. And yes, it looks weird sometimes.
What Is Stimming?
Stimming is any repetitive movement or sound that helps regulate sensory input, emotions, or focus. For me, it’s everything from:
- Rocking back and forth when I’m anxious.
- Clicking a pen during meetings.
- Playing with a necklace or bracelet when I need to focus.
- Humming softly to myself when I’m overwhelmed.
Why I Stim
- To Calm Down: When I’m stressed, stimming helps me center myself.
- To Express Joy: Sometimes I’ll flap my hands or bounce on my toes when I’m excited—it’s pure, unfiltered happiness.
- To Focus: Fidgeting with something tactile, like a stress ball or a fidget ring, helps me stay grounded in overstimulating environments.
A Stimming Confession
A few years ago, I was in a work meeting, nervously clicking my pen under the table. After the meeting, my boss pulled me aside and said, “You seemed distracted. Try to stay focused next time.”
What she didn’t realize was that the pen-clicking was me focusing. Without it, I would’ve spiraled into sensory overload and completely checked out.
Stimming in Public
Stimming in public is a balancing act. On one hand, I don’t want to suppress my natural behaviors just to fit in. On the other, I know that rocking, flapping, or pacing can draw stares.
For a long time, I tried to hide my stimming, replacing it with more “socially acceptable” alternatives like tapping my foot or chewing gum. But suppressing stims only made me more anxious and less focused.
Now, I’ve learned to embrace my stims—even the ones that make people do a double-take.
Stimming as Self-Love
In many ways, stimming is my love language—to myself and to the world. It’s how I show:
- “I’m here, and I’m okay.”
- “I’m excited about this moment.”
- “I’m taking care of myself the best way I know how.”
The Science of Stimming
Research has shown that stimming can help regulate emotions and sensory input, especially for autistic individuals. According to a 2019 study in Frontiers in Psychology, stimming behaviors are linked to the brain’s natural desire to maintain equilibrium in a world that often feels overwhelming.
Cultural and Literary Connections
In Rainer Maria Rilke’s Letters to a Young Poet, he writes, “Let everything happen to you: beauty and terror. Just keep going. No feeling is final.”
Stimming is my way of letting everything happen—processing beauty, terror, joy, and anxiety—without letting those feelings overwhelm me.
How You Can Support Someone Who Stims
- Don’t Judge: Stimming isn’t weird or wrong—it’s a natural way for many people to self-regulate.
- Ask Questions: If you’re curious, ask respectfully about what stimming means to the person.
- Advocate for Acceptance: Help normalize stimming behaviors in schools, workplaces, and public spaces.
Visual Snapshot
I’m sitting in my favorite chair, a small fidget cube in one hand and a warm cup of tea in the other. The soft clicking of the cube echoes in the quiet room, a comforting rhythm that helps me focus.
Outside, the wind rustles through the trees, and inside, the world feels manageable.
FAQ
Q: Is stimming only for autistic people?
A: No. Everyone stims to some degree—tapping a pen, bouncing a leg, humming to a song. It’s just more pronounced and frequent for autistic individuals.
Q: Can stimming be harmful?
A: Some stims, like skin-picking or hair-pulling, can be harmful. In these cases, finding safer alternatives is important.
Q: How can I make stimming more socially acceptable?
A: Advocate for neurodiversity and educate others about the importance of stimming for self-regulation.
Final Thoughts
Stimming isn’t just a quirk or a habit—it’s a lifeline. It’s how I navigate a world that’s too loud, too bright, too everything.
If you stim, embrace it. Let your hands flap, your feet bounce, your voice hum. You’re not weird or broken—you’re beautifully, wonderfully you.
And if you need me, you’ll find me here—clicking my fidget cube, sipping tea, and letting the rhythm of stimming guide me through the day.
