When people hear the phrase Expert by Experience, the word that tends to stand out most is expert. And if I’m being honest, that’s the part I still sometimes feel unsure about.
When I hear the word expert, I picture someone who is completely confident, authoritative, and certain — someone who has all the answers. That isn’t always how I feel. I don’t walk into rooms feeling like I know everything. I still get nervous. I still question myself. And sometimes I wonder whether I really deserve that title at all.
I think some of that discomfort comes from my past. Growing up autistic, and later navigating mental health challenges, I was often misunderstood or not listened to in the way I needed. My experiences weren’t always treated as valid or important — so being told I’m now an “expert” can feel strange, even jarring.
There’s also the assumption that being an expert means being finished — fully formed, confident, and certain. But lived experience doesn’t work like that. It’s ongoing. I’m still learning, still reflecting, still making sense of things as I go. I don’t have every answer, and I don’t think I ever will.
Over time, though, I’ve come to understand that Expert by Experience doesn’t mean being perfect or knowing everything. It means knowing what it’s like to live it. It means speaking honestly about what works, what doesn’t, and how things actually feel from the inside. That kind of knowledge doesn’t come from textbooks or training — it comes from real life.
I may not always feel like an expert, but I do know my own experiences. I know what helped me, what harmed me, and what I wish had been different. And that knowledge has value — especially when services are trying to improve and do better.
So maybe the word expert doesn’t always fit me neatly. And that’s okay. I’m growing into the role, not performing it. My voice matters not because I’m flawless or confident all the time, but because it’s honest.
And in this work, honesty is a form of expertise too.