In the realm of childhood autism, where conventional approaches often struggle to forge connections, psychologist Khrystyna Khachaturova has carved a distinctive path. Her work with children on the autism spectrum is grounded in a psychoanalytic framework, drawing on the insights of pioneers like Frances Tustin and Donald Meltzer to unlock the inner worlds of her young clients. Far from viewing autism as a condition to be corrected, Khachaturova sees it as a unique way of experiencing the world, one that demands patience, attunement, and a deep understanding of the emotional and sensory realities these children inhabit.
A psychoanalytic lens on autism
Khachaturova’s approach begins with a fundamental belief: autistic children are not closed off by choice but are navigating a world that can feel chaotic and overwhelming. “These children are remarkably sensitive,” she observes. “They pick up on the slightest shifts in their environment or the emotional states of those around them. Their behaviours, such as repetitive movements or attachment to objects, are often ways to cope with that sensitivity.”
Her practice is informed by classical psychoanalysis, enriched by Tustin’s focus on the sensory and bodily experiences of autistic children and Meltzer’s exploration of their emotional isolation. Tustin’s concept of the “body shell,” a protective barrier between self and other, resonates deeply in Khachaturova’s work. She pays close attention to how her clients respond to touch, sound, or changes in their surroundings, using these cues to assess their sense of safety. “Spinning or lining up toys isn’t random,” she explains. “It’s a strategy to manage anxiety and maintain a sense of control.” Rather than aiming to eliminate these behaviours, Khachaturova seeks to decode their meaning. Her goal is to create a stable, predictable environment where children can gradually lower their defences and begin to explore beyond their self-contained worlds.
Play as the first bridge
At the heart of Khachaturova’s method lies play, a tool she considers essential for reaching children who may struggle with verbal communication. Her sessions unfold in a consistent setting: the same room, minimal distractions, familiar objects. “Stability is key,” she says. “It gives the child a foundation from which they can start to take risks.” She begins by observing, allowing the child to set the pace. A boy might spin a car’s wheels for an entire session, or a girl might arrange blocks in a precise pattern.
Khachaturova doesn’t interrupt. Instead, she positions herself as a quiet, steady presence, waiting for signs of engagement. “Sometimes it’s a glance,” she notes. “Other times, they’ll bring me an object. These are the first steps toward connection.”
Sensory play, including kinetic sand, water, and soft balls, features prominently in her toolkit, tailored to the tactile sensitivity many autistic children exhibit. Drawing, clay modelling, and storytelling with figurines also play a role, often revolving around repetition and ritual. One memorable case involved a boy who spent weeks building block towers only to knock them down in frustration. Rather than redirecting him, Khachaturova joined in, mirroring his actions. Over time, he began handing her blocks, watching her reactions, a subtle shift that opened the door to shared play. “Play becomes the bridge,” she explains. “It’s where they can express themselves without pressure, and where I can meet them on their terms.”
Subtle milestones, lasting change
The progress Khachaturova observes is rarely dramatic, but its significance is undeniable. Over months, a child who once avoided eye contact might begin to meet her gaze. Another might start anticipating her movements, responding to her presence with curiosity rather than retreat. “These are small victories,” she says, “but they mark major developmental leaps.”
Parents often notice the ripple effects: better sleep, a calmer demeanour, even tentative steps toward verbal communication or peer interaction. “When a child starts seeking out their parents or showing interest in others, it’s a sign they’re feeling more secure,” Khachaturova reflects. “That’s the foundation for everything else.” Her psychoanalytic lens frames these changes as evidence of a growing trust, not just in her, but in the world beyond the child’s immediate boundaries. “It’s about helping them feel safe enough to connect,” she says, “first with me, then with others.”
Facing the challenges
The work is not without obstacles. Khachaturova encounters regressions, moments when a child withdraws after a period of openness, or outbursts of aggression that test her resolve. “It can feel like losing ground,” she admits. “But these reactions often signal internal tension, a fear of losing control or boundaries.” Her training helps her interpret such moments as communication rather than setbacks. “Aggression can be a child’s way of saying, ‘I’m here,’ or ‘I need you to see me,'” she explains. “Recognising that allows me to respond with presence rather than pushing them further away.”
Patience is her cornerstone. “You have to endure the silence, the rejection, the slow pace,” she says. “Progress isn’t always visible; it’s felt in fleeting moments of engagement or trust. But those moments are what drive the work forward.”
Reframing autism
What distinguishes Khachaturova’s practice is her refusal to reduce autism to a checklist of deficits. “The psychoanalytic approach lets us see it as a way of being,” she asserts. “These children aren’t broken; they’re navigating the world with extraordinary sensitivity. Our job is to understand their language and help them feel secure enough to share it.” Her work challenges the field to look beyond surface behaviours and measurable outcomes, focusing instead on the emotional bonds that can transform a child’s experience. “It’s not about fixing them,” she says. “It’s about building a bridge between their inner world and the one we all share.”
A legacy of connection
Khrystyna Khachaturova’s contributions to the field of childhood autism lie in her ability to blend psychoanalytic theory with a profound empathy for her clients.
Through play, patience, and an unwavering commitment to understanding, she has guided numerous children toward greater self-awareness and connection with others. In a landscape where quick results are often prized, her work stands as a testament to the power of subtle, sustained effort and to the potential that lies within even the most guarded of worlds.
Amelia Hart, a psychology graduate from the University of Hertfordshire, has a keen interest in the fields of mental health, wellness, and lifestyle.
