When the fear of being "entitled" silences our needs

If you’ve spent any time in self-help spaces, parenting forums, or workplace “professionalism” conversations, you’ve probably heard some version of "Don't be entitled. The world doesn't owe you anything."

Entitlement is framed as one of the ugliest personality traits one can possess. It's selfish, unreasonable, and corrosive to relationships, they say. And yes, entitlement can cause harm when it’s paired with exploitation or disregard for others’ needs. But fear of being seen as entitled can go too far, and that fear can harm people, especially disabled folks.

In many cultures, "reasonable" needs are usually defined in relation to a default body and mind: one that is non-disabled, neurotypical, and has no chronic health conditions. If your needs fit neatly into that box, they are labeled "normal." If your needs exceed this baseline, though (let's say more rest breaks, sensory accommodations, medical flexibility), they're often framed as "extra." Asking for them can trigger anxious thoughts like:

• Am I unreasonable?

• Will people think I'm taking advantage?

• Do I have to prove I'm not faking it?

This is where "entitlement" rhetoric becomes a muzzle. Many of my disabled clients over the years have internalized the idea that needing more means being too much. That fear then leads to suppression of needs entirely rather than risking the "entitled" judgment. For some, the fear is more than just a passing worry; it becomes an obsessive-compulsive theme. The mind turns it into an endless checking loop by replaying past interactions to check for overstepping, constantly seeking reassurance, and setting needs aside "just to be safe," perhaps conflating them with wants when this goes well initially without regard for the burnout potential longer-term.

The coping strategy often isn't to question whether "entitled" is a fair judgment but rather to shrink the self so far that there is no room for the accusation to stick. It works in the short term, but in the long term, needs still go unmet, resentment builds, and health declines.

Part of the problem is that we use "entitlement" as a blunt instrument without unpacking what we actually mean. Unhealthy entitlement means expecting others to give without consent or reciprocity, disregarding their boundaries or well-being. A healthy expectation, however, means believing that your needs matter and that relationships and communities function best when they honor each person's dignity and access. The danger when we treat these as the same thing is that people with the most needs and least privilege become convinced that having needs at all risks crossing the line.

Also consider how unevenly the word "entitlement" is applied. A non-disabled employee asking for an ergonomic chair is "proactive about health." A disabled employee asking for flexible hours to manage flares is "asking for special treatment." A parent advocating for their child's peanut allergy accommodations is "protective." A parent advocating for their child's sensory-friendly testing environment is "demanding." The difference isn't the size of the ask but rather who is doing the asking and how far the request strays from the so-called reasonable default.

What if we could get curious instead of fearful? If fear of being entitled is shaping your behavior, it might help to pause and ask:

• What do I believe will happen if someone sees me as entitled?

• Whose approval am I seeking?

• What cultural messages taught me that my needs are inherently suspicious?

• What's the emotional, physical, and relational cost of suppressing my needs?

This isn't about swinging to the other extreme and declaring that entitlement isn't a valid concern. It's about noticing how often oppressive systems use it to police people with marginalized needs and asking whether the fear of keeping us from living in a way that is sustainable. Remember the early-2000s panic about what would happen to kids' resilience if they received "participation trophies" for every non-achievement? Adults warned that this practice would create a generation of selfish, entitled brats, but those trophies didn't say "You win no matter what;" they said "Your presence mattered, even if you didn't out-perform everyone else." The outrage said more about our collective discomfort with recognizing worth outside of competition than about any real epidemic of entitlement. That same mindset shows up when we shame people for "asking for too much." We must stop treating acknowledgement of all needs as dangerous coddling rather than as a baseline for dignity.

Allies, if you catch yourself using "entitlement" to describe someone's request, pause and ask yourself: Do I mean they're exploiting others, or do I mean they're asking for more than I am used to needing? Sometimes, what looks like "extra" is just different. Different needs don't make someone entitled any more than different hair color does. If you catch yourself questioning "Do they really need that, though?" notice whose needs you never question in the same way. Instead of playing judge and jury, try assuming the person has already weighed their own capacity and needs. Your role isn’t to audit their legitimacy but to decide whether you can meet the request or help find another way.

Clinicians: stop reflexively treating “entitlement” as a pathology to diagnose or dismantle. Instead, let's get curious about whose needs your client has learned are “too much” and how systemic bias shapes those beliefs. The goal isn’t to make people need less; it’s to help them ask for what they need without shame.

Of course, it's never black and white, and sometimes a person might in fact weaponize their needs to sidestep accountability, monopolize resources, or pressure others into unfair concessions. I won't pretend that doesn't happen for the sake of argument, or that it isn't painful to be on the other side of and should simply be tolerated as a pattern of behavior. But the answer is not to "fake claim" everyone. It's to address the specific concern with clear boundaries. You can name the impact ("This schedule change leaves others without coverage") and invite collaboration ("Let's see if we can meet your needs without creating extra harm"). That way, you're responding to the dynamic, not defaulting to suspicion toward anyone whose needs fall outside the norm.