Internal ableism

I completed three courses on executive functions, practiced bottom-up regulation, bought a timer, kept a journal. But I still can’t cope. I guess I’m just not trying hard enough! There must be some other tools (courses/medication) that will help me be more productive!

And when you end up in burnout again, you sincerely don’t understand: I did everything and even more, why am I here again? And the answer may be this:

The tools changed, but the bar I’m supposed to meet did not. I still demand that I earn money, work on self-development, and learn new things. Despite every measure I take, I come back to the fact that I don’t know how to cope with what is expected of me and what I expect of myself”

What is internalized ableism

Internalized ableism is when we absorb the values of the neurotypical world (productivity, independence, constant availability, the ability to keep oneself under control) and start demanding them from ourselves, without anyone’s help. Even when we already know about ADHD and autism. It’s that very voice in your head that whispers that you’re “just lazy.” We try to squeeze productivity out of ourselves according to Silicon Valley standards, ignoring our own resources. The internalized ableist makes us feel ashamed of stimming, avoid using assistive tools (for example, noise-canceling headphones), or apologize for our need for quiet and a clear schedule.

Internalized ableism grows out of the stigma around disability and shows up in how we relate to our own limitations and the limitations of other people, to needs, and to the right to exist without justification.

The mechanism works like this: from childhood, we receive signals from teachers, parents, peers, and media that we need to think quickly, make friends easily, not throw tantrums, not have our head in the clouds. We are praised and rewarded specifically for hiding our true nature, for trying to reach these standards. Over time, masking becomes automatic and very destructive for the psyche (Autistic Parents UK, 2023).

Internalized ableism lives in “shoulds”: I should be able to leave the house without anxiety, I should not need help with basic things, I should cope on my own and not complain. Sound familiar?

The trap of the “right tools”

Here’s the paradox I see all the time — both in my work and in myself 🙈.

We learn about neurodivergence and it gets easier. So that’s why it was so hard for me! But we still have to learn how to live with it. And given the whole context of our existence, that means completely rethinking our lives. And often that means working less, taking less responsibility for others, demanding less from ourselves. And not everyone is ready for that.

Therapy, medication, and courses on executive functions are wonderful. But if their goal is to finally become productive no matter what, then it is still ableism. Just with more expensive equipment.

“I should cope on my own” — this pain deserves separate attention

This is one of the most painful points, because many of us experience the need for help as a moral failure. One Reddit user wrote: “Still working on not feeling guilty when I need help during a panic attack or with household chores.” Hundreds of likes, because that’s how it is for almost everyone.

“Normal people cope on their own.” But normal people are a construct that none of us has ever actually seen. We spend our whole lives comparing ourselves to neurotypical peers who seem to be coping. But the fact that others manage it or look like they do does not mean we are obligated to (Dr. Alice Nicholls, 2025).

Neurodivergent burnout — a state of chronic exhaustion with skill loss and increasing sensory overload — arises precisely when there is a long-term mismatch between expectations and actual capacities (Raymaker et al., 2020). When the bar remains impossibly high for us.

Internalized ableism often leads to self-blame for the fact that our difficulties and needs cause too much inconvenience to others. We are used to this from childhood. But everyone has needs, and that is normal. Asking for help is normal too. Not smiling when you feel bad, saying no when you are tired.

About acceptance

Accepting yourself does not mean resigning yourself and doing nothing. It means stopping the war against those parts of yourself that simply... exist.

Katie, an autistic blogger with AuDHD who was diagnosed at 24, wrote:

“For years I set unrealistic goals for myself and then felt terrible because I barely finished anything I had planned. I had to admit: I can’t do everything the way other people do. If I try, it only brings more stress and disappointment” (Weird Sensitive Creatures, 2020).

And that’s not all

Internalized ableism is not only about what we think about ourselves, but also about what we think about each other in our neurodivergent community. It often looks like a division into “high-functioning” and “low-functioning.” We may unconsciously encourage those who successfully mimic the norm (mask), and look down on those whose difficulties are too noticeable. This shows up in comments like: “Well, I’m autistic too, but I can go to the store without meltdowns, you just need to pull yourself together.” This invalidation of someone else’s sensory or cognitive experience is pure ableism, ignoring the fact that neurodivergence is a spectrum with different support needs.

Sometimes people write comments like: you work, you run a blog, you’re not autistic/you don’t have ADHD. This is called gatekeeping — when we implicitly decide who is “autistic enough” or ADHD enough, and who is “faking it.”

“I have it much worse than you do.” “You function too well to be suffering like that.” “You don’t look autistic. Those are the ones who don’t speak and smear shit on the walls”

Next time you feel like comparing someone else’s pain to your own, it’s better to stop. Suffering cannot be measured. Someone else’s experience does not invalidate yours.

We reproduce the same hierarchy that we ourselves suffer from. That is, of course, not our fault, but it is our responsibility to notice it and correct it.

📖 What can be done about it?

• Hear the voice of “should.” When “I should cope,” “normal people don’t do that” arises inside, that is a signal. You can ask yourself: is this my voice, or did I hear this directed at me somewhere?
• Allow yourself to need. You are a human being, and every human being needs support and help from other people. You wouldn’t abandon your friend/partner/pet if they broke a leg and needed help, would you? The fact that your difficulties are not visible does not mean they do not exist.
• Look for your own community. Positive representations of neurodivergent people in media and a community where we are accepted as we are can truly change how we perceive ourselves and give us support from other people.

Instead of a conclusion

We live in a world that was not built for us. And we survived in it through masking, overexertion, and chronically ignoring our own needs. But maybe we can try a little differently, stop fighting ourselves, and see ourselves not only as a function (to earn/to serve/to achieve), but as a person in the full diversity of their expressions. We do not have to be “useful” or “understandable” to deserve respect, both within the community and beyond it.