Internalised Ableism.

Let’s talk about it.

Because to be perfectly honest, it is not possible to grow up in our society without internalising the messages we are receiving.

About how we “should” be. About what it means to be worthy of people’s time and attention. About what we can expect from others, and how we should treat them in return.

All of these societal messages have an impact on how we perceive ourselves as Neurodivergent individuals, particularly when we are growing up undiagnosed.

For me, a lightbulb moment was when I went from “oh, I am experiencing x, y, z bad things because I am Neurodivergent” to “ohhhhh, x, y, z bad things are happening to so many Neurodivergent people, we are being failed by the systems around us”.

It was this realisation of the broad mistreatment of our community that really led me to addressing not just my internalised ableism, but how I projected this onto others.

So how do we do it? How do we go from punishing ourselves and others for failing to live up to the expectations of the perfect neurotypical, to accepting and celebrating ourselves and others?

For me it took a lot of conscious reframing of tiny moments.

When I used to mess something up (often due to ADHD - like my brain working faster than my fingers can type, for example), the immediate reaction in my brain was “urrrgh, come on Elizabeth!” (often coupled with a few expletives).

I could tell this was a societal-conditioned response, because the only time I ever thought of myself as “Elizabeth” instead of a nickname was when I messed up - because that is the only time family and teachers had used my full name growing up!

So whenever I felt that response bubble up in response to a mistake, I paused. And I decided on a new reaction. Often it was to say out loud “it’s ok, you’re ok”.

By showing myself compassion, slowly and repeatedly when I failed to live up to neurotypical expectations, I found myself able to offer this same compassion and more to others.

My natural tendency towards kindness, which I was widely known for as a child, returned after years of being suppressed.

The first two columns in the below table came to me in the middle of the night one night when I’d been thinking about not just my own journey but some of the comments I get on my social media posts which very much reflect the person is still struggling with ableism.

My reflections here helped me to respond to these people with compassion, knowing I was once where they are now, and that judgement from others wasn’t what led me to change.

The last column was a suggestion from my lovely LinkedIn community, and makes it that much more powerful.

I hope it helps.