The word vulnerability carries a lot of weight. For Autistic people, it’s often used to describe us in academic research, social services, and advocacy circles. Autistic people are officially labeled a “vulnerable population.” But what does that actually mean? And why do so many Autistic people push back against being called vulnerable? Is it because the term makes us feel weak, helpless, or infantilized—or is there something deeper at play?
I’ve thought about this a lot. As an Autistic person who has spent years writing about autism, using my own life as a case study, I’ve lived with this tension. I’ve been labeled vulnerable countless times—sometimes in ways that felt accurate, other times in ways that felt dismissive. Over time, I’ve realized that vulnerability isn’t as simple as it seems. It’s complex, dynamic, and often misunderstood.
What Does Vulnerability Mean?
Let’s start with the basics. When we call someone “vulnerable,” we’re usually talking about exposure to harm. That harm could come from other people, systems, environments, or even internal struggles. But vulnerability isn’t a fixed trait—it’s something that can change depending on the situation.
For Autistic people, vulnerability can show up in three key ways:
Vulnerability as a Structural Condition
Many of the risks Autistic people face come from systemic barriers. Society isn’t built for us, and that creates challenges. For example:
Workplaces often refuse to make accommodations, leaving us more likely to lose jobs or burn out.
Healthcare systems frequently misunderstand Autistic needs, leading to inadequate care.
Social norms prioritize neurotypical communication styles, which can leave us open to bullying, exploitation, or exclusion.
This kind of vulnerability is closely tied to the way society treats disability in the social-relational model. The social-relational model tells us that disability isn’t an inherent trait—it’s something society creates by failing to accommodate diverse needs. For example, an Autistic person who thrives in a quiet, structured environment might struggle in a loud, chaotic workplace not because they’re “too sensitive,” but because the workplace wasn’t designed with their sensory needs in mind. The problem isn’t the person—it’s the system.
Structural vulnerability works the same way. It’s not about an inherent weakness or limitation in Autistic people. It’s about how society is structured to exclude us. When systems, policies, or environments don’t consider our needs, they make us vulnerable. But in an inclusive society, those same vulnerabilities could disappear entirely.
As Mel Baggs wrote:
“Usually, when people assume things about me, they’re wrong. My life is complicated, and it does not follow the standard stories that people expect either of disabled people in general, or of people with my specific conditions. Pretty much no matter what I say, it ends up creating assumptions that are inaccurate. I am not trying to mislead people, I just can’t tell my life story every time I say something about myself. Please be understanding about this. Every person is different, even a person with a collection of labels identical to mine is going to be completely different from me in a large variety of ways. For some reason, however, the blame always ends up being put at our feet as disabled people, when we aren’t what someone expected.”
Mel’s words capture the exhausting reality of navigating societal assumptions. Vulnerability, in this context, isn’t about who we are—it’s about the ways we’re misunderstood and the blame we carry for failing to meet other people’s expectations.
Vulnerability as a Situational State
Vulnerability isn’t permanent; it’s contextual. An Autistic person might feel completely capable and confident in one setting and deeply exposed in another. For example:
Imagine someone who thrives in their home, surrounded by familiar routines, but becomes overwhelmed in a loud, chaotic grocery store.
Or think about a workplace meeting where you’re asked to answer an unexpected question on the spot. For some Autistic people, this might feel like a small crisis of vulnerability.
The environment, support systems, and social context all play a role in shaping whether someone feels vulnerable at any given moment.
This is the story of the vulnerability I currently experience as a transgender, multiply disabled, unhoused person living in a vehicle, often in places where I don’t know anyone and am not plugged in to local support systems, formal or informal. I’m a strong and competent person, but the way I live is against the law so I am always vulnerable to whatever authorities decide to believe about me or do to me. If they knew me, they might understand. Like Mel, I can’t tell my life story every time I say something about myself. I am vulnerable.
Vulnerability as Emotional Openness
Sometimes, vulnerability isn’t about risk at all—it’s about authenticity. Autistic people are often known for being direct and honest. We say what we mean, even when it’s not the socially “safe” thing to do. This kind of emotional openness can make us vulnerable, but it can also be a profound strength. It’s the foundation for genuine connection and integrity.
Why Do Some Autistic People Reject Being Called Vulnerable?
Many Autistic people dislike being labeled vulnerable, and for good reason. The word often comes with baggage. It can feel like:
Infantilization: Being treated as if we’re helpless or incapable.
Stigma: The assumption that vulnerability means weakness or lack of competence.
Overgeneralization: A blanket label that erases individual strengths and differences.
Reframing Vulnerability
Here’s the thing: being vulnerable isn’t inherently bad. It’s human. For Autistic people, vulnerability often comes from external conditions, not internal flaws. The problem isn’t that we’re “too sensitive” or “too different.” The problem is a world that isn’t designed for us.
In some cases, vulnerability can even be a strength. Being open and authentic takes courage. It’s what allows us to form deep, meaningful connections. It’s what drives creativity and innovation. Vulnerability, when supported and protected, can be a source of power.
What if, instead of seeing vulnerability as a weakness, we saw it as an invitation? An invitation to build systems that work for everyone. An invitation to create communities where people feel safe being themselves. An invitation to honor the unique ways each person contributes to the world.
Where Do We Go From Here?
The question isn’t “Are Autistic people vulnerable?” The better question is, “What does the world need to change so that Autistic people aren’t made vulnerable?”
For me, part of that answer lies in stepping back to create space for myself, to live closer to the rhythms of nature, and to recharge after years of emotional labor. For you, it might look different. Maybe it’s advocating for systemic changes or simply recognizing your own needs and honoring them.
Vulnerability is part of being human. But it’s not the whole story. Autistic people are resilient, creative, and strong in ways the world often fails to see. Let’s build a world that sees us fully.
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