I know this is probably controversial here, but I think the term "neurodivergent" loses some of its usefulness if anyone can simply decide that it applies to them.
To be clear, I am not saying that people without a diagnosis shouldn't suspect that they have ADHD, autism, dyslexia, OCD, or another condition. There is nothing wrong with saying, "I think I might be autistic," or "I strongly suspect I have ADHD." In fact, recognizing yourself in descriptions of a condition is often what leads people to seek an assessment in the first place.
I'm also very aware that diagnosis is not equally accessible to everyone. Assessments can be expensive, waiting lists can be absurdly long, and some people, particularly adults whose difficulties were overlooked in childhood, may spend years trying to understand what is going on with them.
But I still think there is an important difference between suspecting a condition and identifying yourself as someone who has it.
"Neurodivergent" is not itself a medical diagnosis, but the word generally exists to describe people whose neurological or cognitive functioning differs significantly from what is considered typical, usually because of conditions such as autism, ADHD, dyslexia, Tourette's, and others. If I don't actually know whether I have one of those conditions, saying "I am neurodivergent" turns a hypothesis about myself into a statement of fact.
And self-assessment has obvious limitations.
Human beings are extremely good at recognizing ourselves in broad descriptions. Problems with concentration, procrastination, sensory discomfort, social awkwardness, anxiety, forgetfulness, emotional intensity, repetitive habits and exhaustion are all real experiences, but they are not exclusive to one particular neurodevelopmental or psychiatric condition. The same symptom can have many possible explanations.
That is one of the reasons diagnosis involves more than checking whether someone's experiences resemble a list of symptoms. Neuropsychologists are supposed to consider things such as developmental history, severity, functional impairment, alternative explanations and overlapping conditions.
That process is imperfect. Professionals can get things wrong. Diagnostic criteria can be flawed. Certain populations have historically been underdiagnosed. But you can also always seek a second opinion. None of that means that introspection is useless.
But "professionals sometimes make mistakes" is not the same thing as "therefore, my own interpretation of myself is equally reliable."
There is also a broader social problem.
If "neurodivergent" gradually becomes synonymous with "I relate to neurodivergent experiences," the category becomes so expansive that it becomes difficult to know what information the label is actually communicating.
And I think there is another risk here: trivialization.
Being neurodivergent can absolutely involve things that people value, celebrate or even consider beautiful. A brain that works differently can produce different perspectives, interests, ways of thinking, forms of creativity and ways of engaging with the world. I don't think neurodivergence should be framed purely as pathology or tragedy.
But neither should we romanticize it to the point where we forget that, for many people, these conditions come with serious difficulties.
There are people who go through decades of their lives feeling fundamentally out of step with everyone around them without understanding why. Some grow up believing they are lazy, stupid, socially defective, oversensitive, incapable of functioning like everyone else, or simply "wrong" in some difficult-to-explain way. Some repeatedly fail to meet expectations that seem effortless for other people. Some struggle to build relationships, maintain employment, complete education, regulate emotions, tolerate everyday environments or manage basic parts of adult life.
And many conditions commonly described as neurodivergent are also associated with substantially higher rates of mental-health problems such as depression and anxiety and, in some populations, with increased vulnerability to substance abuse or addiction.
That doesn't mean every neurodivergent person suffers constantly, or that neurodivergence is inherently negative. It means that these labels arose around real and consequential differences in how people function, not simply around being quirky, unconventional, socially awkward or having a brain that feels "different."
If anybody can adopt "neurodivergent" purely as an identity, without there being any reason to think they actually have a relevant condition, I worry that the word starts becoming something closer to a personality label.
And that risks flattening the difference between "I sometimes relate to this experience" and "this is a persistent feature of my neurological functioning that has shaped my entire life."
Someone might struggle with executive functioning because they have ADHD. Someone else might struggle with concentration because they are extremely stressed or going through a difficult period in their life. Their struggles are equally deserving of compassion. But that does not necessarily mean those people belong to the same neurological category.
We don't need to medicalize or neurodivergent-ize every difference in human personality and behaviour in order to take people's struggles seriously.
I also worry that treating self-identification as completely equivalent to diagnosis can unintentionally encourage people to become attached to one explanation before properly considering alternatives. Once a label becomes part of someone's identity, evidence against that diagnosis can start feeling like an attack on the person rather than useful information. That isn't good for anyone.
And importantly, you do not need a diagnosis to talk about your experiences. You can say things like:
"I have terrible executive dysfunction."
"I've always struggled socially."
"I'm extremely sensitive to noise."
"I think I might have ADHD."
"I'm currently being assessed for autism."
"I relate strongly to autistic people's experiences."
All of those statements communicate something real without claiming certainty that isn't there yet. I therefore think there should be room for a distinction that sometimes gets lost in online neurodivergent communities: self-suspicion deserves respect, but it isn't the same thing as a confirmed neuropsychological diagnosis.
None of this means treating diagnosed people as some kind of exclusive club or telling undiagnosed people that they aren't welcome in these communities. People questioning whether they are neurodivergent should absolutely be able to participate, ask questions, compare experiences and seek support.
But I don't think inclusion requires us to pretend that "I believe I have this condition" and "I have been assessed and diagnosed with this condition" are epistemically identical claims. They're not.
And maintaining that distinction doesn't invalidate anyone's suffering. It just leaves room for the possibility, which all of us should be willing to accept, that our interpretation of ourselves might sometimes be wrong.
At the same time, it preserves the meaning of "neurodivergent" as a word describing differences that can profoundly shape a person's development, relationships, mental health and ability to navigate a world largely designed around neurotypical people.
I think that meaning is worth protecting.