When every disagreement becomes “gaslighting” and every boundary is “toxic,” we’ve got a problem.

We need to talk about how we talk about mental health. And yeah, I see the irony in that opening line—it’s very therapy-speak of me. But that’s exactly the point.

Somewhere between destigmatizing therapy and now, we crossed a line. Therapy language has escaped the consulting room and metastasized across social media, group chats, and everyday conversations. And actual therapists are starting to raise their hands and say: “Hey, uh, that’s not what that means.”

How We Got Here

Let’s rewind. Ten years ago, admitting you were in therapy was still kind of taboo. Mental health was something people whispered about. Terms like “boundaries” and “trauma” weren’t part of casual vocabulary.

Then came the shift—and it was mostly good! We started normalizing therapy, talking openly about mental health, and learning the language of psychology. Instagram infographics taught us about attachment styles. TikTok therapists explained narcissistic behavior. We learned that setting boundaries was healthy, that you should validate feelings, and that trauma wasn’t just a word for war veterans.

This was progress. Real, important progress.

But then… we kind of didn’t stop. We kept going until we’d turned therapy concepts into everyday ammunition.

The Problem: Weaponized Wellness

Here’s what’s happening now:

“You’re gaslighting me” has become code for “you remember this differently than I do” or “you’re disagreeing with me.”

“That’s so toxic” now means “I don’t like that thing you did.”

“I’m setting a boundary” often translates to “I’m making a unilateral decision and you’re not allowed to have feelings about it.”

“You’re triggering me” sometimes just means “you’re annoying me.”

“I need to prioritize my mental health” can be shorthand for “I don’t want to do this thing I committed to.”

See the problem? We’re using clinical language to shut down conversations, avoid accountability, and frame every interpersonal conflict as a mental health crisis.

What Actual Therapists Are Saying

I talked to several therapists about this trend, and they’re… concerned.

Dr. Sarah Martinez, a licensed therapist in Chicago, put it bluntly: “My clients are coming in using therapy language to describe their relationships, but they’re using it incorrectly. Someone disagreeing with you isn’t gaslighting. Your partner asking you to compromise isn’t violating your boundaries. Your mom being annoying isn’t narcissistic abuse.”

Another therapist, who asked to remain anonymous, said: “The TikTok therapy community has done incredible work destigmatizing mental health. But there’s no quality control. Anyone can post a video explaining complex psychological concepts in 60 seconds, and nuance gets lost.”

The consensus: therapy language is meant to help you understand and communicate about complex emotional experiences, not to win arguments.

Let’s Break Down the Most Misused Terms

Gaslighting

What it actually means: A pattern of psychological manipulation where someone systematically makes you question your reality, memory, or perceptions to gain power over you.

What it doesn’t mean: Someone has a different memory of an event, someone disagrees with your interpretation, someone tells you that you’re wrong about something.

Example of actual gaslighting: Your partner repeatedly denies saying hurtful things that you clearly remember, tells you you’re “too sensitive” whenever you bring up legitimate concerns, and gradually makes you doubt your own judgment about what’s normal.

Not gaslighting: You: “You said we’d leave at 6.” Them: “No, I said 6:30.” This is just a miscommunication, not a conspiracy to undermine your sanity.

Toxic

What it actually means: A relationship pattern that is consistently harmful to your wellbeing, characterized by manipulation, control, or abuse.

What it doesn’t mean: Literally anything that makes you uncomfortable or that you don’t like.

Example of actual toxicity: A friendship where someone consistently puts you down, violates your trust, manipulates you into doing things you don’t want to do, and makes you feel worse about yourself.

Not toxic: Your friend gives you feedback you didn’t want to hear, or has different political views, or sometimes cancels plans, or doesn’t text back immediately.

Boundaries

What they actually are: Limits you set about what you’re willing to accept in terms of others’ behavior toward you, and what you will or won’t do.

What they’re not: A way to control other people’s behavior or avoid any uncomfortable conversation.

Healthy boundary: “I need you to stop commenting on my weight. If you continue, I’ll leave the conversation.”

Not a boundary: “You need to stop being friends with that person” or “Don’t talk to me until you apologize” or “My boundary is that you have to accept my decision without having any feelings about it.”

The key: boundaries control your behavior, not other people’s.

Trauma

What it actually means: A psychological response to a deeply distressing or disturbing event that overwhelms your ability to cope.

What it doesn’t mean: Any negative experience or disappointment.

Actual trauma: Physical or sexual abuse, serious accidents, witnessing violence, combat experiences, natural disasters, life-threatening situations.

Not trauma: Your parents made you take piano lessons, your ex broke up with you, someone said something rude at a party, you didn’t get the job you wanted.

(Note: This doesn’t mean those things can’t be painful or significant—they’re just not trauma in the clinical sense.)

Triggered

What it actually means: Experiencing an intense emotional or physical reaction because something reminds you of a past trauma.

What it doesn’t mean: Feeling upset, annoyed, or uncomfortable.

Actually triggered: A veteran having a panic attack because fireworks sound like gunfire. A sexual assault survivor having a flashback when someone touches them unexpectedly.

Not triggered: You got irritated because someone brought up a topic you don’t want to discuss.

Narcissist

What it actually means: A clinical personality disorder characterized by grandiosity, need for admiration, and lack of empathy.

What it doesn’t mean: Someone who is selfish, self-centered, or inconsiderate sometimes.

Actual narcissism: A pervasive pattern across multiple contexts where someone exploits others, lacks empathy, requires excessive admiration, and has a grandiose sense of self-importance.

Not narcissism: Your ex who broke up with you and moved on quickly. Your boss who takes credit for your work. Your friend who talks about themselves a lot.

Why This Matters

You might be thinking: “Okay, but what’s the harm in people using these terms loosely? At least we’re talking about mental health.”

Here’s the harm:

1. It trivializes real abuse. When everything is gaslighting, nothing is. When we call every difficult relationship toxic, we lose the ability to identify actually dangerous situations.

2. It shuts down communication. Once someone deploys therapy language, the conversation is basically over. How do you respond to “you’re being toxic”? It’s accusatory and vague, and there’s no room for dialogue.

3. It prevents accountability. When you can frame any criticism as an attack on your mental health, you never have to examine your own behavior. “I’m setting a boundary” becomes a way to avoid uncomfortable conversations about the impact of your actions.

4. It medicalizes normal conflict. Not every disagreement is a symptom of deep psychological dysfunction. Sometimes people just… disagree. And that’s okay.

5. It creates a generation afraid of discomfort. When we frame every uncomfortable feeling as potentially traumatic or triggering, we lose our resilience and our ability to navigate conflict.

How to Tell If You’re Overusing Therapy Speak

Ask yourself:

  • Am I using these terms to describe patterns, or single incidents?
  • Am I using them to understand myself, or to win an argument?
  • Would I be comfortable with a therapist hearing me use these terms this way?
  • Am I willing to engage with the other person’s perspective, or am I using this language to shut down the conversation?
  • Could I explain what happened without using clinical terminology?

If you’re using therapy language to avoid having a real conversation, you’re probably overusing it.

What to Say Instead

Instead of “You’re gaslighting me”: “I remember this differently, and I trust my memory. Can we figure out where the disconnect is?”

Instead of “That’s toxic”: “That behavior hurt me” or “I don’t think this dynamic is healthy” or “This isn’t working for me.”

Instead of “I’m setting a boundary”: “I need X” or “I’m not comfortable with Y” or “Going forward, I’m going to Z.”

Instead of “You triggered me”: “That touched on something painful for me” or “I need a minute” or “Can we talk about this differently?”

Instead of “I need to prioritize my mental health”: “I need to cancel because I’m overwhelmed” or “I can’t take this on right now” or “I need some time alone.”

See the difference? It’s still honest and self-aware, but it’s not weaponized.

The Balance We Need

Here’s the thing: learning therapy language has been overwhelmingly positive. It’s given people the vocabulary to identify unhealthy patterns, advocate for themselves, and understand their experiences.

We don’t need to abandon therapy speak. We need to use it more carefully.

Keep using these terms when:

  • You’re describing actual patterns, not isolated incidents
  • You’re trying to understand your experience, not weaponize it against someone
  • You’re communicating with a therapist or in a therapeutic context
  • You’re advocating for your genuine needs

Reconsider using them when:

  • You’re trying to win an argument
  • You’re avoiding accountability
  • You’re shutting down someone else’s perspective
  • You’re turning normal conflict into a mental health crisis

A New Way Forward

Real talk: If you find yourself constantly using therapy language to describe your relationships and conflicts, that might be a sign you actually need therapy. Not to learn more terms, but to learn how to handle conflict, communicate effectively, and differentiate between normal friction and genuine dysfunction.

Therapy language should be a tool for understanding and growth, not a weapon for avoiding discomfort. We can destigmatize mental health without turning every human interaction into a diagnostic opportunity.

Let’s bring back regular words for regular problems: “That hurt my feelings.” “I disagree.” “I need space.” “That wasn’t okay.” “I’m upset with you.”

Sometimes simple is better. Sometimes normal conflict is just… normal conflict. And that’s okay.

The Bottom Line

The therapy-ification of everyday language has done a lot of good, but we’ve overcorrected. We’re so busy diagnosing and labeling that we’ve forgotten how to just… work things out.

You can set boundaries without declaring them. You can have trauma without everything being triggering. You can be hurt without it being toxic. You can disagree without it being gaslighting.

And maybe—just maybe—we can have a disagreement without pulling out the DSM-5.

Here’s your permission slip: It’s okay to be annoyed, hurt, frustrated, or uncomfortable without pathologizing it. It’s okay to have conflict without it being a mental health emergency. It’s okay to just be human.

Now let’s all take a collective deep breath and remember: sometimes a jerk is just a jerk, not a narcissist. Sometimes a disagreement is just a disagreement, not gaslighting.

And sometimes therapy speak needs to stay in therapy.


Guilty of overusing therapy speak? Same. Let’s talk about it in the comments—using our regular people words.