How Ableism Hides in ‘Well-Meaning’ Advice
Bridgette Hamstead
Ableism does not always come in obvious forms. It is not just blatant discrimination or outright exclusion. Often, it hides in everyday conversations, wrapped in what seems like kindness or encouragement. Many of us have heard comments from well-meaning friends, family members, teachers, coworkers, or even medical professionals that, on the surface, do not seem harmful. But when we take a closer look, we see that these comments are built on assumptions that dismiss our lived experiences, invalidate our struggles, and reinforce a world that was not designed for us. They send the message that our neurodivergence is something to overcome, minimize, or explain away, rather than something that should be understood and accommodated.
When people say things like "just try harder," they often think they are being helpful. They believe that motivation or effort is all that is missing, that if we simply pushed through, we could function in the way they expect us to. But what they do not understand is that neurodivergence is not about effort. It is about how our brains process information, manage energy, regulate emotions, and interact with the world. Telling someone with ADHD to "just try harder" ignores the fact that executive dysfunction is not a choice. It dismisses the reality that no amount of willpower can rewire how we prioritize tasks, focus, or manage time. It places the burden entirely on the neurodivergent person to "fix" themselves rather than acknowledging that support, accommodations, and understanding are what actually make life more manageable.
Another common phrase we hear is "everyone’s a little ADHD" or "everyone gets distracted sometimes." This is usually said with the intent of making someone feel less alone or normalizing their experience. But instead, it trivializes the very real challenges that come with ADHD. Everyone might forget things occasionally, but not everyone experiences chronic executive dysfunction that impacts their ability to complete basic tasks. Everyone might get distracted now and then, but not everyone struggles with attention regulation to the point that it affects their job, relationships, or mental health. By reducing ADHD to a universal experience, this kind of statement erases the need for accommodations, dismisses the struggles that come with being undiagnosed or unsupported, and makes it harder for people to feel valid in seeking help. It also reinforces the idea that ADHD is not a legitimate condition but just a personality trait or a bad habit, which is far from the truth.
Many autistic people have heard the phrase "you don’t seem autistic" from people who think they are paying a compliment. What they are really saying is that they have a stereotypical image of what autism looks like, and because we do not fit that image, our diagnosis must be questionable. This assumes that autistic people are easy to spot, that we all look or behave the same way, and that being autistic means being visibly different in ways that are immediately apparent. But autism is not a single, fixed presentation. Many of us have spent our entire lives masking, forcing ourselves to fit into neurotypical expectations at great personal cost. Just because someone does not immediately recognize our autism does not mean it is not real. Comments like this dismiss the deep exhaustion that comes from years of masking, the social confusion we have learned to navigate, and the sensory struggles that may not be visible to others. Instead of making us feel seen, they make us feel erased.
Ableism also hides in statements that frame accommodations as unfair advantages rather than necessary support. When people say, "If you get extra time on tests, then everyone should," or "It is not fair that you get work-from-home flexibility when the rest of us have to come in," they are revealing a fundamental misunderstanding of equity versus equality. Accommodations do not give neurodivergent people an advantage. They level the playing field. If a person with ADHD needs extended test time, it is because their brain processes information differently and needs that extra time to demonstrate their abilities accurately. If an autistic person needs a quieter workspace or remote work options, it is because a traditional office setting is overstimulating to the point of being unmanageable. Instead of seeing accommodations as special treatment, we should recognize that they allow people to function in environments that were not built with them in mind.
Even comments that seem supportive can carry ableist undertones. When someone says, "You are so high-functioning," or "You are nothing like my cousin who has real autism," they may think they are offering reassurance. But in reality, they are reinforcing the harmful idea that there is a "right" or "wrong" way to be neurodivergent. These kinds of statements divide autistic people into categories of "acceptable" and "too disabled," suggesting that those who need more support are somehow less valuable or capable. They also ignore the fact that functioning labels are misleading. Someone may appear "high-functioning" because they have learned to mask or because they have found systems that work for them, but that does not mean they are not struggling. Functioning can fluctuate based on environment, stress levels, and available support. No one should have to prove the extent of their difficulties to be believed.
When people give well-meaning but ableist advice, they often do not intend harm. They may not realize that they are repeating ideas that have been ingrained in society for generations. But intent does not erase impact. These comments, even when spoken with good intentions, can make neurodivergent people feel unheard, dismissed, and unseen. They reinforce internalized ableism, making many of us feel like we have to prove that our struggles are real or that we are not trying hard enough. They contribute to shame, self-doubt, and the pressure to mask even more in order to be taken seriously.
Challenging these subtle forms of ableism requires shifting the way we talk about neurodivergence. Instead of encouraging people to try harder, we can ask what support they need. Instead of minimizing ADHD or autism by saying everyone experiences these traits, we can acknowledge that while some traits are common, having a neurodivergent brain means experiencing them in a way that is significantly more intense and life-impacting. Instead of assuming someone is not autistic because they do not fit a stereotype, we can listen to their lived experience and trust that they know themselves best. Instead of seeing accommodations as unfair, we can recognize them as essential for equal access.
We all have the power to make our language more inclusive and to challenge ableist ideas when we hear them. Sometimes that means educating others, and sometimes it means advocating for ourselves when we receive dismissive comments. It can be exhausting to constantly push back against these narratives, but every time we do, we create a little more space for acceptance, understanding, and real change. Neurodivergent people deserve to exist without having to defend their experiences or justify their needs. The more we recognize how ableism hides in everyday conversations, the more we can work toward a world that values and supports neurodivergent people as we are.
Recommendations for Dealing with Ableist Comments
Pause and Assess the Situation
Not every ableist comment requires a response. Sometimes, it comes from someone who is genuinely open to learning, while other times, it is said by someone who is unwilling to listen. Assess whether engaging will be productive or if it will drain your energy.Correct Gently When You Have the Energy
If someone says something like, "You don’t seem autistic," or "Everyone’s a little ADHD," you can respond with a simple correction: "Actually, autism presents in many different ways, and masking can make it hard to see," or "ADHD isn’t just about distraction; it affects executive function, motivation, and memory in ways that can be really disabling." This keeps the conversation open without turning it into a confrontation.Set Boundaries When Necessary
If someone repeatedly makes ableist comments or refuses to respect your needs, you have the right to set a boundary. You can say, "I am not comfortable discussing my neurodivergence if you are going to dismiss my experiences," or "I need you to respect my accommodations instead of questioning them." You do not have to tolerate repeated ignorance.Redirect the Conversation
If someone says something dismissive, like "Just try harder," you can redirect by shifting the focus to solutions. "Trying harder doesn’t change how my brain works, but support and accommodations do. Let’s talk about ways that actually help." This keeps the discussion constructive rather than defensive.Use Personal Experience to Make It Relatable
Sometimes, people understand better when they hear real-life examples. If someone doubts executive dysfunction, you might say, "For me, getting started on a task can feel like standing in front of a locked door with no key. It is not a matter of effort, it is how my brain processes tasks." Making it personal can help others grasp the reality of neurodivergence.Give Them the Benefit of the Doubt (If Appropriate)
Some people simply do not know better. If their comment seems well-intentioned, you can ask, "Would you like to learn more about autism/ADHD? A lot of what people think they know comes from outdated stereotypes." Offering information rather than assuming bad intent can open up a more meaningful discussion.Have a Few Go-To Responses Ready
Ableist comments can be frustrating and catching them off guard can make it hard to respond in the moment. Having a few standard replies ready can help. If someone says, "You’re so high-functioning," you might respond with, "Functioning isn’t a fixed thing. You are seeing me on a good day, but that doesn’t mean I am always okay."Know When to Walk Away
Not every conversation is worth your energy. If someone is dismissive, condescending, or unwilling to listen, it is okay to disengage. Your well-being is more important than convincing someone who refuses to be open-minded.Seek Support from Neurodivergent Community
Hearing ableist comments repeatedly can be exhausting. Talking to others who understand—whether friends, support groups, or online communities—can provide validation and remind you that you are not alone in these experiences.Remember: You Do Not Have to Educate Everyone
It is not your responsibility to fix ableism single-handedly. You can choose when and how to engage, and sometimes, protecting your energy is more important than correcting misinformation. It is okay to let some comments go and focus on the people who truly want to learn.