What I Learned About the Term “Neurospicy” (and Why I Have Retired It)

When I first heard the term “Neurospicy”, I’ll be honest – I loved it. It felt fun, cheeky, and empowering. As a late diagnosed ADHD-er, and millennial I suddenly got thrown this diagnosis that I never expected, for a condition, a disability that I never thought was ‘Me’. With this I found the fantastic neurodivergent community, new language and terms to help me explain myself, and instead of feeling like I was weird, or abnormal and like I have failed, I found comfort in different language to express and connect with my authentic self. I felt empowered in the process. So, it became a part of my life, my vocabulary, my business.

But here’s my confession: I didn’t know the connotations the word “neurospicy” carried. And now I know, after my LinkedIn blew up, I can’t unsee it – so, it’s not for me. Today, I can say I understand the wider cultural and negative way this word/term lands for many people today, so I have chosen to retire it from my vocabulary and from Neuro-Stitch. (I am in the process of auditing all my social media, resources, and my website – so bear with me, this will take some time and is my priority).

This article is both a thank you for the immense kindness I’ve been met with and a record of what I’ve learned that I felt would benefit others by sharing. It’s also an invitation to keep the conversation going with curiosity, consent, and care – because asking the right question and raising awareness generates change!

What I Didn’t Know (And Needed to Learn)

The word spicy has been historically used as a racist stereotype to sexualise or “other” Black and Brown people. It’s one of those words that, on the surface, seems light-hearted, but underneath carries weighty associations of harm and exclusion.

When I learned this, I realised my casual use of “Neurospicy” might land differently for people whose lived experiences include being dehumanised by language. That’s not something I ever want to be complicit in.

Language isn’t just about intention – it’s about impact. t's a bit like a general practitioner (GP): they're trained to have broad knowledge, but they can't be an expert in everything. We often feel frustrated when they don't have all the answers we're looking for, or when they don't meet our expectations. We may feel unseen or unheard, even if the GP is doing their best. Ultimately, no single person can be expected to know everything Just to clarify, this isn’t me trying to justify myself, but to add an additional perspective to think about when it comes to being human, raised in a different culture and circumstance.

Why This Conversation Matters

This isn’t just about one word or term. It’s about:

• Cultural awareness – recognising how language can carry echoes of oppression, even if we didn’t create them.
• Intersectionality – understanding that neurodivergence doesn’t exist in isolation. It overlaps with race, gender, sexuality, class, and more.
• Humility in growth – being willing to say, “I didn’t know, but I do now. And I’m changing because of it.”
• Keeping the door open – showing that allyship means learning with people, not speaking for them.

Intersectionality: Why One Word Can Hold a Thousand Stories

Language including terms used to describe Neurodivergence never exists in a vacuum. It intersects with race, culture, gender, sexuality, class, religion, and history. A word that feels fun and affirming for one person can feel minimizing, exoticising, or painful for another. There is a whole load of history and information that plays in here. That’s intersectionality in action: our identities overlap, and those overlaps change how language lands.

A few key truths that shaped my decision to ‘retire’ the term “Neurospicy” from my life!

• Intent vs. Impact. Good intentions don’t cancel out harm. What matters is how language lands.
• Origins vs. Associations. Even when a term’s origin story is debated, current associations can still be harmful.
• Power + Context. Who says the word, to whom, where, and why… all of that matters.

If you want background reading, these were just a few of the pieces helped me reflect:

• Stimpunks Glossary: Neurospicy – an overview and critique: https://stimpunks.org/glossary/neurospicy/
• Asian and ADHD: Why I’m Uncomfortable with Neurospicy: https://www.asianandaudhd.com/post/why-i-m-uncomfortable-with-neurospicy

Common Confusions, Untangled

• “But the origin isn’t racist!” That may be debated — but impact today still matters. If many people experience harm or discomfort, that’s enough data to reconsider.
• “Isn’t this gatekeeping?” No. Respecting self‑ID while avoiding group labels that harm others is the opposite of gatekeeping.
• “If some use it joyfully, should everyone avoid it?” We can hold both truths: celebrate self‑ID and avoid applying a term broadly where it may wound.
• “Language keeps changing — how can anyone keep up?” We can’t be perfect. We can be responsive. Curiosity with  consent is a solid way of doing our best.

The 360° Feedback: What I Heard (A Ripple Effect of Perspectives)

When I shared that I’d stop using the term, the responses were thoughtful, generous, and wide‑ranging. Here are the major themes, in people’s own spirits (paraphrased to protect privacy):

1) Self‑ID & Reclaiming: “For me, Not for others.”

Some people said the term captures their personality — bubbly, bold, empowered — and they choose it for themselves only. A few drew parallels to reclaiming queer within LGBTQIA+ communities, highlighting the importance of in‑community choice and agency.

Insight: Self‑identification is personal and valid. Autonomy matters. One person’s empowering label can be another person’s hurt.

2) Cultural Context: “History matters.”

Others emphasised that for many Black and Brown people, the word spicy is entangled with a history of being exoticised or sexualised. For some, that makes reclaiming feel unlikely or unwanted — and that response deserves respect.

Insight: Reclaiming depends on lived experience and cultural proximity. What feels liberating in one context can feel alienating in another.

3) Nuance on Origins vs. Impact: “It’s not only about where it came from.”

A few clarified that the links don’t necessarily claim the origin of the word is racist/sexist; rather, the current associations with “spicy” (as applied to people). That distinction was insightful.

Insight: Even if origins are contested, present‑day impact is still a valid reason to choose different language.

4) Neutrality & Professionalism: “Keep it real, not trivial.”

Some prefer terms like neurodivergent or neurodiverse, arguing that cute labels can gloss over medical, social, and access realities — or make neurodivergence more palatable for others’ comfort.

Insight: There’s value in language that normalises difference without sugar coating it.

5) Language as Cushion vs. Clarity: “Sugar coating vs Honesty?”

Several people noted we sometimes reach for playful language to make things more digestible. Others shared they’re moving away from terms like “dysregulated,” “stressors,” or “triggers” toward more precise or compassionate language.

Insight: Words shape perception. Precision, consent, and compassion beat euphemism.

6) Strong Dislike & Scepticism: “It sounds glamorising or ‘porn‑y’ to me.”

For some, the term felt like glamorising or exoticising neurodivergence. A few referenced “Scoville scale” jokes; others questioned why neurodivergence needs rebranding rather than normalisation.

Insight: If a term routinely distracts from lived reality, it’s probably not serving inclusion.

7) Respect & Consent: “Ask first.”

A powerful thought: people want to choose their own labels. Many said they might use it for themselves but would never label others without consent.

Insight: Consent is the simplest, strongest guide. Ask how someone wants to be described.

8) Rapid Adapters & Grateful Learners: “Deleted from my vocabulary today.”

Many thanked me for naming the issue, sharing links, and modelling public accountability. Several said they’d stop using the term immediately while they reflected further.

Insight: Openness invites action. Learning is contagious when shame isn’t in the driver’s seat.

Mindset Patterns I Noticed (Coach Detective Hat On)

Through an ADHD Detective lens — Investigate → Collect Clues → Connect Dots →Unmask, Solve the mystery by trying new approaches to see what works — here’s how the responses clustered:

• Growth Mindset & Bridge‑Builders: Willing to listen, reflect, and adapt. They asked, “How can I choose language that centres care and consent?”
• Curious but Cautious: Wanted nuance, distinctions, and sources. “Is it origins, impact, or both?” They appreciated clarity and context.
• Defensive/Fixed Mindset (understandable when identity is at stake): Felt attached to the term, perceived critique as personal. “If it empowers me, why should I change?”
• Values‑Aligned Pragmatists: Moved quickly to action — “I’ll retire it publicly; I won’t police others’ self‑ID.”

My ADHD Coach Takeaway: When shame is low and curiosity is high, people move. When identity feels threatened, people protect. Our job in inclusive spaces is to lower threat and raise curiosity – help others be exposed to new topics, learning and awareness.

Where I Landed

• I won’t use the term “Neurospicy” as a public label for myself or others, or in my content, coaching, or publications (except in the context I have with this article for awareness only)
• I respect individuals’ right to self‑identify — including those who keep using the term for themselves.
• I’ll continue learning, especially from Black, Brown, and mixed heritage neurodivergent folks who’ve generously shared how this lands.
• I’ll prioritise consent, clarity, and context in my language choices.
• I’ll keep listening, learning, and being open to unlearning, because language and inclusion aren’t one-and-done.
• Kindness over accusation matters. That’s what keeps the space approachable and safe to ask, learn, and grow.”
• Be mindful of all people not having access to the same knowledge, neurotypes, experiences, support, information. As a white woman born in the ’90s, I acknowledge the privilege I carry.

This has reminded me of one of my own mantras as a coach – my Detective framework: investigate, find clues, connect the dots, unmask and solve the mystery with action. We as humans, don’t always get it right. Sometimes our words stitch us up. But when we pause, reflect, and re-stitch together what we learn, we create something stronger and more inclusive.

The Fear of Rocking the Boat

I want to be honest here: I was nervous about posting on this topic. I’m white, a millennial born in the 90s, and I recognise the privilege that comes with that. I didn’t want to centre myself in a conversation that isn’t mine to own or come across like I was speaking for anyone. My fear was real: “What if I say the wrong thing? What if I get it wrong publicly?” That fear is privilege too — because some people don’t get to choose whether they face these conversations.

But I asked a question. And that question sparked an enormous response. I genuinely didn’t expect this post to “blow up” the way it did. Yet it reminded me of the power of curiosity — of putting a question out there with humility and seeing how it can connect so many people across different backgrounds. The conversation itself became the teacher.

The kindness and insight I’ve met from others has been immense. And that’s why I’ll keep choosing openness - progress over perfection.

Because if there’s one thing I’ve learned, it’s this: language isn’t just words. It’s connection, culture, and community. And the more curious we are, the stronger we grow—together.

Closing Thoughts (and Ongoing Commitments)

I’m grateful for everyone who took the time to teach, challenge, and encourage me. Your perspectives — whether you love the word, dislike it, or were undecided — gave me a 360° view I couldn’t have reached alone.

I’ll keep:

• Listening across cultures and identities.
• Choosing consent‑based, context‑aware language.
• Modelling public accountability when I get it wrong.
• Building Neuro‑Stitch as a place where we can learn, unlearn, and grow together.

If this stirred something in you — curiosity, discomfort, clarity — that’s a good sign. That’s learning. And that’s where change begins.

With care and accountability,

Heidi