At two years old, I didn’t truly understand how to communicate that everything I touched felt like tiny needles were piercing my skin. I couldn’t say, “Hey, please don’t touch me right now; it’ll make me anxious.” At two years old, I simply cried and screamed. I pulled on my mom’s skirt, hoping that she would be able to fix my irritating problem? Unfortunately, she couldn’t interpret my pathetic cries, so I would cry...