The fight over what’s real (and what’s not) on dissociative identity disorder TikTok
It was TikTok, in Robinson’s eyes, that was driving the sudden rise in pediatric DID referrals. “It’s possible that social media is revealing new ways for individuals with genuine DID to express themselves,” he said in his lecture. But he also issued a warning: “however, it’s also very possible that social media and internet trends are contributing to increased DID claims that are not genuine.” That is, people claiming to have DID might be mistaken, confused, or simply faking it.
Robinson — a member of McLean Hospital’s trauma research program, which delivers specialized care to people with dissociative disorders — said he could not accurately diagnose anyone through social media at the outset of his talk. Still, he used TikToks to illustrate his points. He started with a clip of a rainbow-haired DID system purchasing a personalized cake to celebrate their official DID diagnosis, something Robinson thought was “surprising,” as it contrasted with the typically “hidden” nature of the disorder. He shared footage of a system cycling through eight elaborate neon outfits — complete with wigs and cat-like paws — attributed to their different alters, “overt changes” of appearance that Robinson felt were “not characteristic” of the DID patients clinicians see each day.
Kraft — whose alters include JA, a man-hating lesbian, and Kaleb, a hat-loving teenage boy — says Robinson’s presentation was distressing to her system and the other influencers he featured, who faced waves of abuse off the back of his lecture. “I have screenshots of someone coming onto my page to tell someone they shouldn’t believe me because this doctor says I’m faking,” she says. “People were given a license to hate.”
DID creators and their fans lashed out at Robinson in response. They felt the lecture discredited their experiences and further entrenched stigma against people with the disorder. Actress AnnaLynne McCord, who came out as a DID system in 2021, called the lecture “asinine” and “crazy.” Systems began to “review bomb” McLean Hospital, where Robinson works, leaving comments on Google about the “unethical” and “disgusting’ presentation. A petition was circulated calling for a “formal apology” and “reparations” from McLean Hospital as well as a wide range of trauma experts; another petition called for Robinson’s license to be revoked.
In the end, McLean removed all videos of Robinson’s lecture from its owned channels.
I’ve long suspected that many things like this are functions of social media. My experience of human nature is that many people will do absolutely anything for attention, and what is social media if not a tool designed explicitly to garner attention? (You only once have to be in a gay bar when a bachelorette party walks in to realize people love to co-opt identities that make them feel special, and will be absolutely shameless about doing so.)
Anecdotally, this is rampant in high schools. Teachers, kids, parents… I’ve had countless of each say, “yeah, lots of girls say they’re queer or trans to get attention.” Yet no one seems to say this in public for fear of reprisal.
Our culture has lost the ability to talk in nuance, so I feel the need to explicitly say: this does not mean I think trans people or people with DID don’t exist. They do, and have a right to, just the same as all of us.
I’m merely skeptical of the numbers we currently see on or infer from social media. I resent any wing of culture that says my skepticism, a hallmark of liberalism, is somehow “hateful” or “invalidating.”
Beware of anyone that says skepticism is “hateful.” They’re trying to shut down critical thought and conversation, not encourage it.