The Right Term – Sensitive, Supportive, and Entirely Personal
Trigger Warning: Talk of Rape/Sexual Assault and Suicide
In our efforts to be respectful, caring, and politically correct, we sometimes miss our own biases creeping in, though in a different way. We forget that not everyone thinks the same way, whether you share diagnoses or experiences or not. And in the process, we may be hindering the recovery and growth of others. From organizations and media, we learn the “appropriate” terms and ways to talk to people. But have you ever stopped and wondered if that’s what the individuals want?
Person-first vs. identity-first language
I am a person with schizoaffective disorder.
Advocacy told me that I am not a schizoaffective, I am a person with schizoaffective disorder. I accepted it; I latched onto it; and this person-first language became something I championed. Why? Because I do not identify as my disease, I am more than just an illness. I see my identity as being a person who happens to live with schizoaffective disorder. I built my life and advocacy platform making the assumption that everyone with mental illnesses would agree. “Schizophrenic” became a bad word in this person-first philosophy. That is, until I heard it come from an advocate with schizophrenia.
I was caught off guard. But, as I widened my view beyond myself and those who shared my viewpoint, I found it more and more. At first, I could not fathom why someone would want to tie their identity to an illness. But I watched. I followed social media accounts of people who used this identity-first language. For some, identifying as schizophrenic was a positive thing. The gears turned slowly in my head, but I began to understand. I want you to call me a person with schizoaffective disorder, but don’t assume that everyone feels the same.
Victim vs. survivor
What makes you a survivor?
When my post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD) smacked me across the face a few years ago and memories of my rape flooded over me, I struggled to feel like a survivor. Much of society made it clear – we are not “rape victims” we are “rape survivors.” But I felt like I hadn’t survived. Sobbing on the floor or hiding under the covers as flashbacks played on repeat, I didn’t feel like I had escaped or overcome. I didn’t feel like I had risen above it. Instead, I felt like my rape was an anchor pulling me down as I struggled to keep my head above water. I felt oppressed by my PTSD, controlled by it, and weak. The word survivor didn’t taste right on my tongue, but victim did.
This idea that I had to feel like a survivor actually hindered my recovery. I obsessed over it. It felt as if there was something wrong with me for not feeling like a survivor. But after many months, I began to feel more comfortable with the term survivor when it came to identifying myself. But recently, I was reminded that not everyone feels this way. In fact, there are people who feel the term victim is more appropriate, even in the long term. Society demands that survivor is the most sensitive, supportive term, but not everyone who has been through sexual assault agrees. Not everyone sees “victim” as a negative term. And in some case, like mine, the pressure to feel like a survivor can actually be detrimental.
Staying alive for yourself vs. staying alive for others
Is it harmful to say that suicide is selfish?
I see it written across social media all the time – people who are suicidal should be reminded of their worth. It is emphasized that suicide is not selfish. Post after post recites that using the idea of how someone’s death will impact others as motivation for them to stay alive is wrong. But when I read this the thought that quietly crosses my mind is that that’s what kept me alive. There’s nothing anyone could have done to show me my worth or make me feel hope. But I felt like I would be letting down the people in my life. I felt like they needed me. To be clear, this thought process will not save everyone nor am I making any recommendations on how to support someone who is suicidal. Everyone is different and not all depression is the same. What is harmful to others was lifesaving for me.
Call me what I want
You may have heard of the golden rule – treat others as you would like to be treated. But that doesn’t really take into account that others may not want to be treated the same way you do. Consider instead, the platinum rule. Lesser-known than the golden rule, the platinum rule advises that we treat others as they would like to be treated. I am a rape survivor who lives with schizoaffective disorder whose life was saved by living for others. But someone else may view themselves as a schizoaffective rape victim whose life was saved by remembering their own worth and the things they could accomplish. And there’s nothing wrong with that.
We hear it all the time, but it bears repeating – we are all different. Humans are unique and every person will respond to things in a way that is entirely their own. Their thoughts and their preferences are entirely their own. So the next time you learn the most “appropriate” term for a person with a diagnosis, an experience, or the way to speak to someone in the darkest of dark places, don’t forget that this is not applicable to everyone. Stop yourself before you assume someone shares all of your beliefs, even those beliefs that are championed by leading organizations. Instead, draw your focus to the individual. You may not always know what it is they would like to be called or how they would like to be treated, but give yourself the opportunity to find out. Listen not only to your heart; listen to theirs.
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