The Flip Side of a Coin: Exploring Labels

As many of you who follow my journey already know, I’m a mother of four beautiful, unique children, three of whom, at some point, has been assessed as meeting the criteria for “autism.”

When my eldest was younger before we had any diagnosis, it was incredibly hard. We were stumbling through parenting terrain that felt unfamiliar, confusing, and at times, isolating. We didn’t know anyone personally navigating autism, and there was no roadmap. The expectations we placed on ourselves as parents, paired with the reactions from the outside world especially other children who would distance themselves, tease, or avoid, made it all the more painful.

So when we received a diagnosis when we were given a label we initially grieved.

Not because of who our son was, but because of what the word represented in society. “Label” often carries this heavy weight: of being permanent, of being limiting, of being something to be pitied or feared. There’s stigma built into it, especially when paired with terms like “disorder.”

But we quickly began to see a different side of that coin.

For our son, Seth, having a name for his experience gave language to his world. It gave us a lens to see him more clearly,not through society’s judgments, but through understanding. It allowed teachers to adjust their approach. It gave us permission, in a way, to step into the role of fierce advocates lion-hearted, determined, and unapologetically vocal about his right to be accepted, understood, and included.

Over time, I noticed that resistance to “labels” didn’t usually come from those who were actually neurodivergent. It came more often from people uncomfortable with difference, or those who hadn’t yet explored their own biases or internal stories. There’s a deeper discomfort in society with vulnerability and labels often make things visible that we’re taught to hide.

And here's the irony: without the label, my son would’ve faced more pain, not less.

It was a shield at a time when the world didn’t know how to make space for kids like him. It provided context, and opened the door to support that we otherwise would’ve had to fight even harder for. Was it perfect? No. But it gave us a starting point.

Still, the danger comes when the label becomes the identity. When it defines the whole person. That’s when things get murky.

I’ve long struggled with the word label itself,it feels reductive. Like putting someone into a box that can’t contain all of who they are.

“And unless you've experienced the complex dance of comfort and pain that comes with such a label, it’s hard to fully grasp how simultaneously empowering and limiting it can be.”

Let’s unpack it a little.

What is a label, really?
To label is to identify, categorise, or describe someone or something. Labels can help us navigate life, they offer clarity, they guide us toward people with shared values, knowledge, or experiences. When you meet someone and they say they’re a doctor, it tells you something helpful. It may even help you feel safer, or trust their perspective on a particular issue. Likewise, knowing someone’s faith, ethnicity, or background can create bridges of understanding, or at least, curiosity.

But the danger is when that label becomes all we see.

Is the doctor only a doctor? Of course not. Will they always be a doctor? Maybe not. The same goes for any label Christian, Buddhist, introvert, extrovert, autistic, neurotypical.

These are descriptors, not destinies. They may change. They may grow. They may fade or deepen over time.

Yet in many systems, we’ve turned labels into life sentences.

Especially with autism, the term is often paired with the word disorder. A word that suggests something unwanted. Something to fix. Something to be erased.

And that’s where the real problem lies.

Autism, like many forms of neurodivergence, is not something to be pitied or silenced, it’s something to be understood. It holds its own wisdom, creativity, and beauty.

But our systems have built language that reflects discomfort more than curiosity. That pushes difference to the margins, instead of celebrating it as part of the full, rich spectrum of being human.

“I don’t want labels to go away. I want us to hold them more lightly. To see them as windows, not walls. As bridges, not boundaries.”

And most importantly, I want us to always remember: no label, diagnosis, title, or description can ever sum up the fullness of a person.

They are just one side of the coin.

Let’s keep flipping it over. Let’s keep asking what’s on the other side.

If this resonates with you, I invite you to explore our blog “Beyond the Label: Seeing Autism Through the Body’s Wisdom” for a deeper dive, or learn more about our Rewire To Nourish program a gentle, whole-body approach to support children and parents in navigating neurodiversity with understanding, connection, and care.