Understanding Ableism: How Society Disables People

Disability Is Not a Bad Word

Disability is not a failure. It is not a flaw. It is not something that needs to be softened for the comfort of others. And yet, for many people who live with disabilities, simply using the word “disabled” can feel like stepping into a room that suddenly grows quiet. It is often met with discomfort, avoidance, or an immediate attempt to reframe it, terms like “differently-abled,” “special needs,” or “inspirational” quickly take its place.

These phrases are usually intended to be kind. But beneath the surface, they often reinforce something quieter and more harmful: the belief that disability should be avoided, softened, or made more palatable. In other words, they point to the ongoing presence of ableism.

What Is Ableism?

Ableism is a system. It is a way of thinking, speaking, and structuring the world that favors non-disabled people and treats disability as something less than. At times, it is overt. A flight of stairs without an elevator. A hiring decision made based on assumptions. A child excluded from their peers because they move or communicate differently.

More often, it is quieter and embedded in everyday life. It is a raised eyebrow when someone requests an accommodation. It is praise for pushing through instead of permission to rest. It is the guilt that creeps in when someone needs more breaks, more time, or more support, and fears being seen as difficult. It is calling a child “challenging” when what they really need is sensory regulation and understanding.

Disableism is a related term. Where ableism captures the cultural preference for non-disabled experience, disableism points more directly to the systemic and structural disadvantages that arise from that preference. Both remind us that disability does not exist in a vacuum. It is not just a function of someone’s body or brain. It is shaped by how society responds to difference, and by what it makes room for, and what it does not.

The Social Model of Disability

This brings us to the social model of disability, which offers a different way of seeing. Rather than defining disability as something broken or missing within a person, the social model suggests that people are disabled by their environments. By the structures, attitudes, and systems that fail to anticipate difference.

Consider something as common as eyesight. If someone cannot see well, but they have access to corrective lenses, they are usually not considered disabled. Their need has been planned for. But if you remove that access, if glasses did not exist, or were out of reach—then that same person suddenly experiences disadvantage.

The need has not changed. The context has.

Disability, through this lens, is not simply a personal deficit. It is a mismatch between a person’s needs and their environment. And that shift in perspective changes everything.

Invisible Disabilities Are Still Disabilities

When people picture disability, they often think of visible supports: wheelchairs, prosthetics, mobility aids. But many disabilities are invisible. They include chronic illnesses, pain conditions, neurodivergence, traumatic brain injuries, and mental health diagnoses, among others.

These kinds of disabilities are real. And they are often dismissed.

People with invisible disabilities are regularly told they “don’t look sick.” They are asked to prove their pain. They are questioned about their energy, their competence, their choices. This invalidation does not just hurt. It accumulates. It plants doubt. It exhausts. And over time, it can erode a person’s sense of reality and worth.

Internalized Ableism: When the Message Sinks In

Perhaps one of the most painful aspects of ableism is how easily it becomes internal. Disabled people are constantly asked to prove that they are not a burden. To minimize their needs. To outperform their limitations. To act as though they are not impacted, even when they very much are.

This pressure turns inward. It begins to sound like:

• I should not ask for help.

• I need to try harder.

• I do not want to slow anyone down.

• Maybe I am not “disabled enough.”

• If I rest, I am just being lazy.

These are not truths. They are symptoms of living in a world that does not make space. And yet, they can feel so deeply true.

It takes time to unravel those messages. It takes time to begin to believe that access is not indulgent. That rest is not laziness. That interdependence is not failure. But that work is part of healing.

Disability Is a Part of Being Human

Disability is not rare. It is not an edge case. It is a natural, expected part of being alive in a body that changes. It can begin at birth. It can arrive after injury. It can develop slowly, across years. And it can affect anyone.

Most people, if they live long enough, will experience disability in some form. It may be temporary or permanent. Visible or invisible. Mild or profound. But it is a part of the human condition.

It is not a niche concern. It is a shared one.

Isolation, Shame, and the Myth of the Burden

Because of how our world is built, many disabled people live with deep and persistent isolation. Not just physical inaccessibility, but emotional and social exclusion. Being left out. Being overlooked. Being treated as though their presence is too inconvenient or too complicated.

This kind of exclusion often gives rise to shame. The sense that they are too much. Too slow. Too demanding. That they are taking more than they give.

But the issue is not the presence of disability. The issue is that our world has not been built to honor it. And that can change.

The problem is not disabled bodies or brains. The problem is exclusion. The problem is a lack of access. The problem is pretending that human variation is something to be accommodated only when convenient.

Let’s Stop Tiptoeing Around the Word

There is no shame in the word disabled. It does not need a euphemism. It does not need softening or apology. It needs recognition, respect, and accurate language.

When we avoid the word, we suggest that it is something too uncomfortable to name. When we reach for terms like “special needs,” we unintentionally reinforce the idea that disability is shameful.

But it is not.

Disability is not a secret. It is not something to be fixed or erased. It is something to be understood. It is something to be included. It is part of the rule, not the exception.

At Willow and Moss Counseling

We are disability allied. That means we recognize that disability is not just a medical or individual issue—it is also shaped by systems, environments, and attitudes. We support clients with both visible and invisible disabilities. We understand that your body or brain may shape your experience of the world in ways that deserve care, not correction.

Whether you are navigating chronic illness, neurodivergence, pain, or any other form of disability, we want you to know that your experience matters. You are not too much. You are not a burden. You are welcome here.