When words hurt without meaning to

Words have meaning even when we don’t realise. Anna Pawlowicz explains how it affects the message we want to deliver.

Photographs: Unsplash

Text: Anna Pawlowicz

"I didn’t mean it like that."

We’ve all said it. When someone points out a word or phrase that lands wrong, our instinct is to defend our intent. Maybe we said, “That idea’s insane,” or “I’m totally blind to that problem.” These expressions slip out easily because they’re everywhere.

But language is powerful. It doesn’t just describe the world - it shapes how we see people in it. Even when there’s no bad intent, the words we use about disability can quietly reinforce the idea that difference equals deficiency.

What ableism sounds like

Ableism is a type of social prejudice that refers to discrimination, bias, or stereotypes about disability – whether physical, cognitive, or mental. But ableism isn’t just found in buildings without ramps. It also hides in our everyday speech.

Ableist language is when we use disability-related words as metaphors for something negative, funny, or extreme. Words like “crazy,” “lame,” “crippled,” or “OCD” are so common that we barely notice them. Yet when they’re used this way, they turn real experiences into punchlines or insults.

None of this means that everyone who uses such language is unkind. It simply means we live in a culture that has long treated disability as a problem. And when our language follows that pattern, we keep that story alive – often without meaning to.

Intent matters. But the impact lasts longer.

If you live with a disability, hearing your reality used casually to describe something bad or undesirable can sting. It can send the quiet message that your identity is something to avoid, fix, or laugh about.

This isn’t about policing speech or walking on eggshells. It’s about self-awareness. When we notice the stories our words tell, we get the chance to rewrite them.

The good news is: it doesn’t take much to change how we speak. Once you notice ableist language, it’s surprisingly easy to replace it with something more accurate, kind, or creative. Here are a few examples:

Common phrase	Why it stings	A kinder swap
"That idea is insane."	It links mental illness with chaos.	“That idea is surprising / extreme / hard to believe.”
"I'm so OCD about cleaning."	It trivialises a serious condition.	“I like things neat / I’m very particular.”
"He's wheelchair-bound."	It suggests imprisonment or limitation.	"He uses a wheelchair."
"She turned a blind eye."	It equates blindness with ignorance.	"She ignored / overlooked it."

These are small, ordinary swaps – but they add up. They make conversation safer and more respectful, and they remind everyone listening that disability isn’t a metaphor. It’s simply a part of human diversity.

Language as inclusion in practice

We often think of disability inclusion as something formal, like hiring policies, ramps in buildings, or captions in Zoom calls. But language is where true inclusion begins. It’s the bridge between our intentions and other people’s experiences.

When we take care with our words, we show care for the people who hear them. That’s what makes language such a powerful tool: it can wound, or it can welcome.

Language evolves – and we evolve with it. Every time we choose words that reflect respect and curiosity, we make daily life a little easier for someone who’s used to being misunderstood.

Inclusion doesn’t start with a big statement or a perfect vocabulary. It starts with listening, learning, and a single choice: to make our words part of the change.