FWIW, as someone with a disability, I just don't care about this - your intent and actions matter so much more, as I've commented before[1]:
> I've had people who've obviously been trained to use person-first language be actively unpleasant (often the classic "you don't look disabled" and questioning the authenticity of my documents), and people who've used clumsy, borderline-offensive language go miles out of their way to help me (and the other way around). [...] I will say "disabled person" stands out to me less, as "person with disabilities" can come across as a little forced[, though it's probably because I've heard the former more often].
Notably, however, the Sierra Club guide doesn't seem to actually call for that as far as I can see - it directs you to refer to the National Center on Disability and Journalism’s Disability Language Style Guide[2], which currently states:
> In the past, we have encouraged journalists and others to use person-first language (such as, "a person who has Down syndrome" rather than "a Down syndrome person") as a default. Even with the caveat that this does not apply to all, we have heard from many people with disabilities who take issue with that advice. For us, this really emphasizes the fact that no two people are the same — either with regard to disabilities or language preferences. And so we are no longer offering advice regarding a default.
The one part of the Sierra club guide I would strongly agree with though is:
> Similarly, we should avoid making light of things like PTSD, anxiety or OCD, by using real medical diagnoses as a metaphor for everyday emotional experiences.
It's frustrating to hear people cry "My OCD!" when, for example, they can't tidy something up even though it clearly doesn't bother them a few seconds later, as it feels like it is trivialising the problems this condition can cause, and doesn't even match up with many manifestations of the disorder (my own irrational obsessions cause me to be way _less_ tidy than the average person).