It was 2020 when I was diagnosed with ADHD, something I had suspected I had since high school. I was 28 years old. And at that time, I was only beginning to suspect that I was also autistic. 

Fast forward another year and a half, and autism was confirmed with an official diagnosis. But even then, I struggled to see myself as “disabled.” I continued to use the same sort of logic and reasoning when speaking to myself that had been used against me my whole life. I thought, “It’s not that you can’t do this thing; it’s that you’re not trying hard enough.” Or, “You could concentrate on this if you really wanted to. You hyperfixate just fine when it comes to hobbies. You’re just lazy.”

The culture that I was raised in, the American “pull yourself up by your bootstraps. I did it, you can do it, too,” mentality never helped me accomplish anything. It only heaped guilt and shame on me when I was already struggling to cope and ultimately resulted in a full shutdown. (And the full shutdown made me feel even more guilty and shameful, leading to even more shutdown. Round and round we go…)

On the flip side of that, because “invisible disabilities” are often framed as illegitimate by society – because I grew up around people who would say things like, “Look at that lady parking in the handicap spot. She’s not disabled. She’s just fat and lazy. And because of her, we all have to park further away.” Because of this, I also struggle with feelings that I’m not disabled enough to own the label. 

This very much circles back to the idea that I feel I should be able to simply push through my disability to do all the things “normal” people can do, but it’s also partially a feeling of inadequacy. I’ve spent my whole life feeling like an outsider and being rejected when I tried to appear normal, after all. So now it’s hard for me to believe that the disability community might greet me with anything other than a similar disinterest or hostility.

So suffice it to say I do a lot of lurking in autism and ADHD community boards and not much actual posting. 

Ultimately, it’s that lurking that is helping me accept myself. I see other people express experiences that sound so like mine. I see other people’s tentative first posts, terrified they won’t be accepted. And each time, the community rallies around them to confirm that they’re not broken or worthless or any of the other things they’ve been led to believe all their lives. That they are, in fact, lovable and worthwhile. They’re not alone. 

The community sees them and supports them. Every. Time. Even if they don’t say it exactly right. Even if they don’t know all the lingo or aren’t up on the latest research or activist movement. Even if they still can’t accept themselves. The community accepts them as they are.

Feeling this support, even just vicariously through other people, helps reassure me that I’m perfectly fine the way I am. And it’s okay if I need to make adjustments to make things easier on myself. It’s okay to take breaks and to have bad days. None of these things are wrong. They don’t make me broken. And there’s a whole community of people who know EXACTLY what I’m going through. 

So, it might still get caught in my throat when I try to say the words, “I’m disabled.” Hopefully, someday that will change.

For now, I’m satisfied that I no longer feel guilt or embarrassment when I say, “Grocery stores are too overestimating for me. I order my groceries.”

Right now, I’m celebrating that I can be the person to bolster someone else up in their journey when they shamefully admit in a tiny voice that they’ve given up on running any errands during the week because just getting through work is taking every last ounce of energy they have to give.  Instead of simply commiserating with them about how difficult it is, I can be the person who meets their shame with acceptance and even excitement as I share the various life hacks I’ve found to get me through the day-to-day. 

I want to learn to be so accepting of who I am and how my brain works that I no longer seek out the approval of others for the way I live my life. I want to be able to speak my needs without compromise. And I want the power to leave behind anyone who isn’t willing to accept me where I’m at. I’m sick of hurting myself to make others comfortable.