This is a layered and textured question that can be explored from many different perspectives. I would say there is no one route to explore this question, but I can share some orientation from my own experiences. Beware there is much controversy within such a simple question!
It’s also a question that can be very helpful to dig into with your trusted people: your partner, your good friend, your therapist, your doctor, your parent, etc. I don’t believe any one person can give you all of the answers, but consulting with people you trust might help you to get more perspectives.
It can be a confusing journey, so it might be helpful to start with a map. Different communities will answer this question in very different ways.
Medical model
If you are working within this model, you either meet criteria for a diagnosis, or you do not. The DSM-V and ICD-11 are based upon this model, which:
Uses a top-down model of diagnostic criteria to arrive at a diagnosis.
Aims to be quantitative and measurable.
You must go through what is called a neuropsychological evaluation (“neuropsych eval”) with an outside professional evaluator to determine whether you meet criteria for a diagnosis.
Criteria are focused upon pathology, and/or deviation from “normal”, rather than upon traits or strengths. Ableism is baked into this approach.
Can be a very expensive process if paid out of pocket, and/or difficult to access, with potentially long wait times if working with insurance as a third party payer.
Standardization tends to be based upon limited populations, such as young white American males. The standards fail to include criteria that fit for folks outside that narrow scope of identities and life experiences.
Infamously poor at accurate evaluation and identification of women, racialized people, immigrants, trans and gender non-conforming people, non-Americans and others (see bullet point above).
The evaluation itself usually lasts 4-16 hours and consists of a battery of tests and an interview.
Results in a lengthy report that describes what the evaluator observed, the basis for their determination, and data about the battery of tests: how you did as compared to other people and statistics around that comparison.
Diagnosis can allow neurodivergent people to access important resources, such as disability funding, accommodations at school or work, and validation of their experiences.
Neurodiversity affirming model
The neurodiversity affirming model is entirely different than the medical model.
Instead, the frame embraces qualitative description, self-advocacy, and the idea that the basis of expertise and authority on neurodiversity comes from within the neurodiversity community itself, rather than being defined by an outside authority. This model assumes that I am the expert of my own experience, and learn from other neurodivergent people to form a meaningful identity. From within this model:
If I recognize myself in the traits of neurodivergent people, and that framing is useful for me, it is appropriate for me to self-identify.
I might not have an official neuropsychological evaluation to arrive at a conclusion. There are many tools from within this model to help explore for yourself. My resources page has some tools that might be useful (link).
Focus is on traits and strengths rather than on pathology.
Does not attempt to be objective, quantitative, nor even measurable.
Has an anti-ableist approach to describing a diversity of differences rather than deviation from a standard or norm.
From within this model, the term neurodivergent can itself be problematic. The word suggests that my way of experiencing the world diverges from some standard of normal, and assumes that we all fit into two tidy boxes, neurotypical and neurodivergent. For this reason, terms that are more inclusive and not so binary, like neurospicy, neuroqueer, or neurosparkly, might feel more accurate or descriptive to you.
How to talk about it
What is confusing is that we might use the same language, such as “I am autistic,” but may be operating within different models, and therefore different assumptions, around the use of that word. It happens frequently to me that when I share with someone I’ve known a long time that I am autistic, they respond by saying something like: “You? Well, if you are, I certainly can’t tell!” If they are operating from within the medical model, these words might have supportive intent, but the impact, especially from within the neurodiversity affirming model, is that their words are actually insulting.
My hope is that over time, as the culture changes, these two models will further align in their framing of neurodiversity. Our own neurodivergent voices and experiences matter in framing how we talk about neurodiversity. For a current example of this important work, see my colleague Lila Low-Beinart and her colleagues’ detailed recommendation to the American Counseling Association, entitled "ACA Code of Ethics: Collective Recommendation for the Integration of Neurodiversity-Affirming Frameworks." I envision that ten years from now, we will look back on this era regarding neurodiversity similarly to our current retrospective view of the changes to gay rights in the last few decades: how could there have so recently been a time when gay people in the US couldn’t legally marry? We might look back to these current times and say: How could there have so recently been a time when neurodivergent people were considered an aberration?
