Reasons versus excuses- through an ableism lens

Published on 27 September 2026 at 12:00

As a neurodivergent individual, I often feel judged by others. This may be because they directly say something that I experience as judgmental, or because I sense that what they are thinking or feeling about me is judgement. To me, the act of judging a person is the opposite of offering understanding and care. When I feel judged by someone, I experience this as them creating a barrier to understanding, not wanting to hear my reason. This often leaves me feeling isolated and discriminated against for being or acting differently from them.

Sometimes, when I’m feeling grounded and safe within myself, I’m able to see that someone judging me doesn’t mean anything about me. It reflects their beliefs about how a person should be or act in the world—beliefs that are often unconscious and shaped by their society, culture, family, and other influences. Of course, I also have unconscious beliefs, and I have judgmental thoughts too. But I try really hard to understand where they come from and to avoid acting from them.

When I feel judged and I don’t feel grounded or safe, I tend to shut down to try to prevent as much pain as possible from getting through to me. But the pain of being or feeling judged often still seeps through. It can feel as though there is no kindness or care; sometimes, I even feel a kind of hate from people whom I feel are judging me.

When people judge me, words they often use (or I sense they are thinking) are: “You are making an excuse” . There can also be an assumption that if I’m not doing the “thing”, then I’m being lazy, because the “thing” is something everyone should be able to do.

But I think there is an important distinction between a reason and an excuse. A reason is an explanation for why someone is doing, or not doing, something. An excuse is often what we call that explanation when we have decided that the person should be able to do the "thing" anyway.

The problem is that we cannot necessarily know, from the outside, whether something is a reason or an excuse. We may not understand another person's experience, but not understanding their reason does not make it an excuse.

The “thing” could be attending school, going shopping, socialising, or anything else that, if a person does repeatedly, could have a negative impact on their emotional, mental, and/or physical wellbeing. The negative impact is the reason we may not be able to comply and do the “thing”.

Sometimes, when someone says, “That’s just an excuse,” I wonder whether what they are really saying is: “I don't believe your reason" or "I don't think your reason is good enough". But ,who gets to decide what is a good enough reason for another person?

This is where I think ableism can come into the picture: making assumptions that all humans can do the same things. Most people do not acknowledge the position of power and privilege they have when they are able to conform to neuronormative expectations without negatively affecting their mental or physical health.

This often creates a no-win scenario for neurodivergent people. If I comply, I may have a meltdown, become exhausted, and not be able to keep doing the "thing" and I get judged. I may push myself so much that, in the long run, I burn out and get judged. And If I don’t do the thing because I'm aware of the negative impact it would have on my wellbeing , I get judged too.

And this is where the distinction between a reason and an excuse becomes important. If I tell someone that I cannot do something because doing it is having a significant negative impact on my wellbeing, I am giving them a reason. They may not understand it. They may not agree with it. They may not experience the same thing themselves. But that does not make it an excuse.

Unconscious internalised ableism

Sometimes, the people who seem the most judgemental may themselves be struggling with neuronormative expectations. They may have internalised these expectations and may not yet be in a place in their own journey where they are able to look at them or challenge them. They may have learned  and believe that there is a “right” way to cope, a “right” way to behave, or a “right” amount of difficulty a person should be able to tolerate. 

Perhaps they have learned to push themselves through things that are difficult for them because they believe they have no other choice. When they see someone else who cannot, or chooses not to, do the same thing, this may challenge those beliefs. There may be an unconscious thought of: “If I have to do it, why don't you?”

But this assumes that the cost of doing the thing is the same for everyone. but it isn't. Someone may be able to do something without it having a significant impact on their emotional, mental, or physical wellbeing. Someone else may be able to do the exact same thing, but at a much greater cost. And sometimes that cost isn't visible.

I think this is part of what makes ableism so difficult to recognise. We can look at what someone is physically doing (or not doing) without seeing what it is costing them internally.

As always, I feel that the way forward is through compassion and kindness in the form of understanding and acceptance towards ourselves and others. When we move through life with eyes of kindness and compassion and care, we create more space for deep, meaningful, safe and authentic connections with others who are able to meet us in the same way.  Perhaps, ultimately, it is through these connections that we feel most seen, understood and accepted for who we truly are.


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