I hear a lot of people say that they don’t want to be labeled, or not to label their children. Usually this is in response to having illnesses diagnosed, whether mental or physical, but sometimes it’s social, too — people wanting to not be stuffed in a box that says they should behave like X or Y not Z.
As a linguaphile, this bugs the shit out of me.
Listen, if you’re one of those people who hates labels, I’m not going to argue with you and I’m not going to use whatever labels I have for you in my head to your face. But I’m going to label you “one of those label-haters.”
What is it that humans do? They talk. And how can you talk about things if they don’t have words? As in, if they don’t have labels.
It freaks me right out that people will snark “don’t label me!” when all three of those words are, in fact, LABELS. Don’t = the act of not doing an action, used as a request or command. Label = to tag something or someone with a word or phrase that defines something about that person or thing. Me = the self.
Maybe I’m getting too literal here, but I’ll go on.
I have had an anxiety disorder my entire life. Years of therapy has healed it to almost non-existence, but it still pokes its head up once in a while, and my childhood and teen years were hell.
You have no idea how good it felt to hear the 20th therapist I saw (yes, 20th, anxiety was NOT a buzz word in the 80s) tell me that I had an anxiety disorder.
She knew what was wrong with me! It had a NAME! It was a real thing, it wasn’t depression (which I’d been mis-diagnosed with), it wasn’t schizophrenia (which I’d been mis-diagnosed with), the symptoms FIT me, and there was a treatment plan. I can’t tell you the hope that bloomed in me after that first session. I had been going to kill myself, but now I had a real glimmer of hope that I might be able to feel better.
I also can’t tell you the number of times I’ve heard the same from people suffering from various illnesses, both mental and physical. The thing they say, over and over, is “there WAS something wrong with me, and it had a NAME!” The relief that comes with knowing something has a label — it’s been studied, experts know about it, there are treatments or support groups or specialists available, you know this because the problem has an actual name. It’s not a mystery issue that no one can help, it’s not something you made up, it’s not just you.
Now, before we argue about the fact that my therapist diagnosed me with an anxiety disorder and didn’t call me an anxiety-ridden person, let me stop you.
I’ve heard the argument that people that say “I am anxious” vs. “I have anxiety” are people who really identify with their disease.
I call bullshit.
Number one, the wording I used above is really awkward. I would only say “I am anxious” if I were having an attack right at the moment. The same with depression — I would only say “I’m depressed” if I were feeling especially down. I would say “I have depression” to describe an ongoing condition.
It’s less awkward to say “I’m autistic” vs. “I have autism.” And I feel like this is a real reach — sometimes how something is worded can have a huge impact on how people view it or mean a lot more than they’re saying — Freudian slips are real-ish. But mostly, people talk without thinking and don’t mean anything by it. They say the simplest phrasing and leave it at that.
The other thing that gets me is how people demand not to be labelled as though a single label will define them.
Number one, the labels only describe something about you. They absolutely never describe you entirely.
Number two, labels might describe you, but they absolutely never define you. That, you do yourself.
Number three, most mental disorders are on some sort of spectrum — meaning each version is fairly unique to the person who has it. There will be some things that are typical or common, some things that are a little odd, and a level of functioning that’s unique to the individual. Labels are only very general.
Number four, no one is described by one label. Ever. I am a woman. I am a feminist. I am a writer. I am an artist. I am a drummer. I am a dancer. I am a belly dancer. I am a wife. I am naive. I am wise. I am learning. To my grandparents, I am young. To my friends’ kids, I am old. I have suffered from anxiety and depression, I’ve been better and I’ve had relapses. I have a green thumb. I can’t sew. I am a sci-fi/fantasy geek. I could go one and on with all the labels I identify with, or that other people identify me with and that I can’t argue with.
If you are a woman, do you identify with all the same labels I do? If you’re a man, do you not identify with any of these labels? Of course not. It’s not a single label that describes us, but all the combinations that can be had with LOTS of labels, positive and negative.
If you or someone you love is diagnosed with a disorder they’ll likely be dealing with forever, it’s certainly possible they’ll run into stigma and judgement from other people. (Especially within the education system in the U.S. — but that’s a whooooole other ball of wax.)The same with identifying with any sort of label that people don’t find “normal” — bisexual, anti-capitalist, witch. But in my opinion, it’s better to educate the people around us to better understand the labels we’re using than it is to refuse to correctly or honestly label someone. Especially if that person needs help — or might need special help or treatment or understanding because of their label.
Labels can be misused or misunderstood just like so much else in the world. I don’t think refusing to use them helps anyone in any meaningful way. And people who think that a single word defines a person and that they can be treated badly because of it?
I have a label for them, too.
