Identity-First Language - Autism: Words That Hold Us

First-Person Language and Autism: Embracing Our Identities

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Language is more than just a tool for sharing information. It’s the scaffolding we use to build meaning. In the identity-first language autism conversation, the words we choose leave fingerprints on how we see ourselves and how others perceive us. This is especially evident in the ongoing debate about whether to say Autistic person or person with autism.

For many of us, this isn’t a minor stylistic quibble. It’s about whether the words reflect the truth of our lived experience.

A name that holds all of me

When I say “I am Autistic,” I’m not just stating a fact. I’m placing myself within a reality that shapes how I think, feel, and navigate the world. Autism isn’t something I carry like a backpack I can set down when I need a break. It’s not an add-on, like a job title or a hobby. It’s part of my operating system.

That’s why identity-first language feels more accurate to many of us. It recognizes autism as inseparable from the self, much like being Deaf, queer, or left-handed. Saying Autistic person affirms that reality without apology.

The thinking behind "person with autism":

People who prefer person-first language often come from a place of care. They want to emphasize that a person is, first and foremost, human - not defined solely by any diagnosis. For parents and professionals who have seen autism used as a slur or a way to limit opportunity, person with autism can feel like a protective measure. It serves as a linguistic shield between the person and a world that can be unkind.

This position often stems from love and fear in equal measure. Yet, even with good intentions, this framing can create distance between the person and their identity. It suggests that autism is an unfortunate hitchhiker who tagged along for the ride.

Why that distance hurts

Saying person with autism implies separation - that autism is something you can detach. But that’s not how neurology works. To suggest that a person would be “better” without autism implies they would be a different person altogether. For many of us, that’s not just a hypothetical - it’s an erasure.

It’s a subtle shift in phrasing, but it carries a heavy undertow. Identity-first language resists the idea that autism is a tragic flaw to be hidden or “fixed.” Instead, it places autism where it belongs - in full view, as part of a whole, complex human.

Common ground - if we look for it

Interestingly, both sides of the debate tend to agree on some fundamentals:

• No one wants autistic people described as “suffering from” autism.

• Everyone desires language that communicates respect and value.

• Both camps aim to challenge stereotypes and harmful narratives.

  
  

The difference lies in how we think respect is best expressed - by emphasizing shared humanity before difference, or by embracing difference as part of that humanity.

What I hope for in the identity-first language autism conversation

I don’t expect everyone to immediately switch to Autistic person. But I do hope more people will pause to consider why so many of us choose it for ourselves. When we speak about our own lives and identities, the language we choose is a way of saying, “This is me. All of me.”

Conversations about language can get heated - sometimes too heated. But if we can keep listening across the divide, we might find a way to let our words do what they’re meant to: connect, rather than separate.

Because at the end of the day, the truest first-person language isn’t just about whether we say Autistic or with autism. It’s about allowing people to name themselves in a way that feels whole - and honoring that choice. I'd love to hear your thoughts on this one for sure. So even if that's not what you do, maybe this time?

The power of language in our lives

Language shapes our experiences. It can uplift or diminish. It can connect us or isolate us. I often reflect on how the words we use can either affirm our identities or create barriers. When I embrace my identity as an Autistic person, I feel empowered. It’s a declaration of who I am, not just a label.

The Journey of Self-Identification

Self-identification is a journey. It’s not always straightforward. There are moments of doubt, confusion, and revelation. I’ve navigated through layers of societal expectations and personal experiences. Each step has brought me closer to understanding myself.

Embracing Our Differences

Our differences are what make us unique. They are not flaws to be fixed but aspects of our identity to be celebrated. I’ve learned to embrace my quirks and idiosyncrasies. They are part of the rich tapestry of who I am.

Building Community Through Language

Language can also build community. When we share our stories and use terms that resonate with us, we create bonds. It fosters understanding and connection. I cherish the moments when I find others who resonate with my experiences.

The Future of Language and Identity

As we move forward, I hope for a future where language continues to evolve. A future where everyone feels empowered to express their identity authentically. Let’s keep the conversation going. Let’s explore the nuances and complexities of language together.

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Want to Keep Exploring?

This space is still new, but it’s already full of big questions, half-formed truths, and stories that might sound a little like yours.

If you’re curious where to go next, here are a few places to wander:

• Safety Nets I've Stitched for Myself: Why Autistic Safety Systems Matter

  For me, safety is about understanding how easily the world can misread me, how quickly my own brain can work against me if I push too hard, and how I’ve had to become both my own advocate and my own accommodation just to navigate the supposedly “ordinary” parts of life.

  
  

• When Narcissists Target Neurodivergent People

  Being tangled up with someone who twists your words, rewrites your memories, and makes you doubt what’s real is a hallmark of narcissistic abuse of neurodivergent people - and you are not imagining it.

  
  

• The Queer Neurodivergent Life Map Quickstart (free download)

  A gentle, self-paced journal for autistic, ADHD, AuDHD, queer or otherwise neurodivergent women who are ready to unmask, unlearn, and rewrite their story from the inside out.

Or, if you just want to be here quietly, you can join the list and I’ll send new things your way when they’re ready. No pressure. No performance.

I love that you’re here.