The Opposite of Normal Is Wrong: Putting a Finger on the Source of Self-Stigma

By Youssef Sleiman Feb. 1, 2024

What if the opposite of normal isn’t “different”? What if the opposite of normal is “wrong”? 

This thought hit me at the grocery store as I was reflecting on the deficit- and disorder-based nature of the terms for neurodivergent psychological types. As I’m browsing the pasta aisle, I see a lot of different kinds of noodles and a dozen different sauces. 

Spaghetti. Penne. Farfalle. Fettuccine. Fusilli.                 

Autistic. Allistic. AuDHDer. Dyslexic. Gifted. Neurodivergent. Sensory processing. 

Pesto. Mushroom alfredo. Garlic marinara. Meat-flavored sauce. Traditional.

“Traditional” caught my attention. Marinara, right? But the label reads “traditional.” And to be fair, when I do think of the quintessential pasta dinner, I think of spaghetti noodles with marinara sauce. If I were told to make a “normal” spaghetti, I might reach for traditional, normal spaghetti sauce. 

If I used pesto sauce or farfalle pasta, someone might have said, “Hey, you’re doing it the wrong way. Don’t you know what normal spaghetti looks like?” 

Normal. Neurotypical. 

What’s Normal, Anyway?

A 2020 study estimated that 15%-20% of the global population is neurodivergent in one way or another. If that’s so, then what does that make the opposite 80%-85% of the population? Neurotypical? While the term shows up in scientific literature, “neurotypical” is usually defined by what it isn’t, instead of what it is. It’s as if the neurotypical brain is made up of non-traits, a faceless standard by which all are measured. Control groups in studies of autistic individuals have to be not autistic. In studies of ADHDers, control groups may be screened for behaviors consistent with ADHD. Not dyslexic, not gifted, no sensory processing disorders, etc. — that’s neurotypical. 

However, scientists disagree about whether there’s a normal brain or not. Why? Because neurodiversity includes a panoramic variety of brain. Meanwhile, “normal” might not be as useful of a description you might expect. Imperfect assessments, inexact definitions, and so much left unknown about how all humans work — these factors drive the shifting understanding of human psychology. “I don’t know yet” may be the most intellectually honest thing anyone can say about whether anyone is neurotypical. 

Educators and doctors have cited developmental milestones that most growing humans hit at certain times, and it’s rare for any kid to hit every developmental milestone on schedule. 

And is that wrong if they don’t? 

Am I wrong for diverging from normal and hitting some milestones early? 

Am I the wrong spaghetti dinner, and neurotypical is the normal spaghetti? 

My Pasta Epiphany: Normal Vs. Wrong

There I stood, frozen, with grocery shoppers reaching around me to get to the traditional pasta sauce, when it hits me: 

What if the opposite of normal isn’t “different”? 

I had just been noting differences in pasta and brains without judgment — until a normal emerged, a normal that I had internalized. The pastas were different and fine, until there was a “normal pasta.” A normal that’s socially constructed, yes, and one that was carried around in popular media, educational and career milestones, and even in my use of the word “neurotypical.” I’d brought a normal, a standard, to a party of diverse pasta. 

Then, anything different was “not normal.” A divergence, abnormal, and wrong. Instead of being merely different, different had taken on a judgment, a value, a negative connotation.  If “not normal” is wrong, then the opposite of normal isn’t different at all. 

What if the opposite of normal is “wrong”? 

Wrong, as in, incorrect or unsuitable because it’s not the normal, expected, correct way to make dinner, work through math classes, construct a work day, read a book, or just be a person. 

Yes, some situations can be unsuitable. As one woman asked, “Excuse me, could you step aside so I can get to the Ragu?”, I was forced to acknowledge the fact that differences can pose obstacles. However, those can be resolved. I may be different, inconvenient, hard to get around, etc. 

That said, I’m not wrong for existing the way I do. Isn’t that message at the crux of the neurodiversity movement? The wild, vast range of ways for brains to perceive, process and exist doesn’t mean they need to be corrected or changed. Instead of stigmatizing those who need support, could we make it more acceptable to ask for and lend help when someone’s environment doesn’t perfectly match their dispositions? 

The woman reaching for the Ragu seemed to agree with me. 

What an unfortunate irony it is, then, that some neurodivergent people may be first-rate pattern-finders and meaning-makers — making them supremely susceptible to picking up on social stigma and carrying the lesson “I’m not normal” for years to come. 

So many neurodivergent individuals like me report feeling like they never felt normal, never felt like they fit in. It’s a distressing existence. Even if the schoolyard taunts passed, I may recognize hints and patterns later in my life. The woman reaching for the Ragu offered a sympathetic smile. She seemed to get it. 

That moved me. Far enough for her to reach the Ragu. To be seen as a person with my own lived experience, perhaps very different from her own, that touched my heart. I waved fondly as she ran off to finish her shopping for what she needed. I may carry the weight of “never being normal” — and it could become a filter for my whole existence. She proved that every situation can be as much an opportunity for understanding as difference. 

Getting needs met without stigma may be what advocates press for. 

Who can advocate when the stigma is carried within? 

What’s Self-Stigma? Internalized Stereotypes and Prejudices a Neurodivergent Person May Hold Against Themselves — Which May Block Their Path to Healing

Self-stigma is the psychological term for internalized negative beliefs, stereotypes, and prejudices a person may agree with about their own conditions and experience. 

A diagnosis of “attention hyperactivity deficit disorder” can carry pathologizing and stigmatizing language to any listener. (That’s why advocates say ADHD needs a better name, with similar discussions around dyslexia, AuDHD, and beyond.)  A gifted adult may call themselves “such an arrogant know-it-all.” An AuDHDer may call themselves harmful names they’ve heard from teachers, parents, or abusive classmates and choose to not participate in something they want — essentially self-discriminating before others can. 

For me, it’s a lasting message of “You’re too complex when you talk. No one can understand you.” You might imagine how hard that can be for a writer. 

Any normal we define may become a platform for stigma, a source of shame or judgment. 

Pathologizing and stigmatizing language are ways that another person’s normal can be projected onto someone else. 

Pathologizing language says, “You should be medicated for that difference.” Weaponizing the medical and mental health fields complicates anyone’s healing journey. Then again, some things are pathological: headaches, a broken arm, genetic diseases, any persistent struggle that makes getting through the day harder. Not all pathology is bad, and it shouldn’t be the first tool mental health professionals, doctors, and psychologists reach for. 

Stigmatizing language says, “You’re wrong for having that difference.” Parents being told their gifted child is demon-possessed, managers characterizing a twice-exceptional worker as The Dwight or The Sheldon, and acquaintances suggesting that you’re better off never dating because “you just don’t get it” — these emotionally disturbing situations cross my mind daily. They’re sad, hurtful, and exhausting. 

Whenever I say, “Isn’t this normal for everyone?”, then I’m expecting others’ life experience to match my own — and I’m creating a normal, a standard, by which to judge others. 

What if I pick up someone else’s standard? What if I believe the messages embedded in those horrible experiences? 

Self-stigma happens when I absorb someone else’s definition of normal while recognizing I don’t fit it — and then I act, feel, and think within that framework. Too complex. Knowing it all. Being the wrong pasta. As a result, maybe I shut up, shut down, shut my heart. 

A kind of awakening is happening for adults around the world. Adults in their 20s, 30s, 40s, 50s are finding out that they’re neurodivergent, that their brains and nervous systems have always worked differently from what their environments said was “normal.” They have also had a long time to observe the world, recognize patterns, and internalize someone else’s normal as if it should apply to them. 

So it’s no surprise to me to hear traces of self-stigma in the neurodivergent community. I also hear them (and myself) heal by dismantling self-stigma. It’s also inspiring to hear individuals take back their power, either by owning labels or disowning labels, shedding negative beliefs, revisiting old self-prejudices that allow them to reframe their needs as human, worthy of being met, and part of a life.   

The surprise to me is the word neurotypical. What an odd cultural inheritance for the neurodiversity movement. 

Because it’s another normal.

“Neurotypical” Fails Everyone — Including Neurotypical Individuals

The idea of “normal” fails everyone, including those who might be described as neurotypical. It doesn’t carry any denotative meaning beyond “not neurodivergent” (even though it can carry a lot of connotations). 

Neurodivergent individuals come into new self-understanding as they explore de-pathologized terms such as monotropism for autism and VAST for ADHD — because there’s brainwork spent to understand how to more fully conceptualize their experiences. How empowering it can be for a parent to hear autism described through the lens of monotropism, rather than in terms of deficit and disorder. Instead of listing what their child can’t do and isn’t expected to do, the monotropism offers a conceptualization of a guiding tendency in the brain of an autistic individual. 

What might it do for the neurodiversity movement to have as much thought and effort put into the conceptualization of “the neurotype formerly known as neurotypical”? More than just a new word that still means “normal, not neurodivergent”, I’m talking about a new conceptualization, a materially useful description of a guiding tendency. Fortunately, there are neurodiversity-affirming psychologists doing that brainwork right now. 

I believe such an understanding may open up avenues for mutual appreciation and understanding. 

Like the appreciation I developed for “traditional” pasta sauce and spaghetti. 

If you only ever conceive of it as “a normal pasta dinner,” you may never understand the sauce’s unique character. It’s not salsa. It’s not tomato paste. What makes marinara sauce alla marinara is the olive oil, the basil, the oregano, the wine. “Marinara” means “of the sea” in Italian, so of course its character includes a robust flavor of multiple herbs and sometimes capers or anchovies —- because the sauce is related to seafood.

Just as much purpose and meaning surrounds spaghetti. Each pasta shape offers a unique texture to the meal. It’s a support for the sauce, and a complement to any cooked meat or vegetables added to it. Spaghetti does something materially different from farfalle, and both of them do something different from penne. Spaghetti drags flavor from across the plate, making it excellent for any oil-based meal, like the oils in marinara sauce or seafood, so that each bit carries something from the whole plate. 

Calling something “normal” may be the perfect way to make a thing invisible while diminishing the value of anything that doesn’t conform.

On the other hand, accepting myself starts when I cease stigmatizing myself for not meeting a normal that no longer serves me. If I honor my lived experience fully, I could also extend the same courtesy to others — even if they describe a lived experience so entirely different from my own. 

Who cares if it’s not “normal to me”? I can honor it as human and theirs. 

Quirky, wordy, and lightning-fast at the keyboard — Bright Insight Vice President Youssef Sleiman is a professional creative, international SEO content consultant, neurodivergent gamemaster, speaker, writer, and special consultant who helps gifted and 2E adults channel their productivity and ignite their creative spark.