The words we borrow from therapy

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Spending time online across the past few years, there’s a lot of discussions happening about mental health, processing harm, and we’re seeing a lot of psychological language entering the chat. Therapy language has gone pretty mainstream, and that’s worth paying attention to, because this is a both/and situation. The democratization of psychological language has done a lot of good, but it’s also created some harmful patterns, and addressing this means being honest about both sides.

It’s not about policing how people talk, it’s about literacy. Really understanding what these words mean, where they come from, and what’s at stake when we use them incorrectly is important.

For a long time, emotional and relational language felt less accessible to many people – you had to be in therapy, or studying psychology, or have someone in your life who could help name what you were feeling. Without the words, the experiences can be harder to communicate, to validate, and to try and process or let go of.

For example: ‘gaslighting’ describes a pattern of manipulation and emotional abuse where someone systematically distorts another person’s perception of reality. This word coming into the mainstream gave people a tangible way to describe something that had been making them feel crazy for years – and recognizing it as a form of abuse was validating for many people.

Other terms like boundaries (giving people permission to say no without extensive justifications), trauma response (why certain situations trigger reactions that might feel disproportionate), and emotional labour (naming unpaid, invisible, relational work) also brought new understanding and tools for communication to our relationships.

The thing about this language is that it was developed in a clinical context, with specific definitions, applied by trained practitioners who are understanding psychological dynamics with nuance. That’s not to say this setting is perfect – far from it – as its embedded with many institutional forms of harm such as systemic racism, ableism, misogyny, and more. Sometimes, however, when these words enter the mainstream, their definitions stretch (see our post on what trauma bonding actually means, and why it’s important to understand the definition here).

The uncomfortable piece of this is the weaponization problem. Therapy language can be weaponized, and it is. When someone is being held accountable for harmful behaviour and deflects with something like “that’s a lot of negative energy and I need to protect my peace”, or “I can’t engage with this because it’s triggering”, they are shielding themselves from important growth, and minimizing the harm they are causing to others. If someone is framing a partner’s completely reasonable request as a violation of their boundaries, they may be misusing that word to maintain control.

This can be incredibly tricky to discuss, because many people using these words are using them correctly, and many people using them incorrectly aren’t trying to be manipulative, they are just doing their best with the language they have. But consent culture and relational dynamics require us to hold multiple truths: trauma is real and deserves care, and trauma language can be deployed strategically to avoid accountability. Boundaries are essential and ‘boundaries’ can be invoked to justify controlling behaviour.

Healthy relationships and healthy communities require accountability. And accountability requires talking about harm without getting immediately redirected to the emotional state of the person who caused harm.

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I don’t think the answer is to abandon this language, rather to use it more carefully. Learn about what these words mean before you use them, and reflect before using it – is this the right word for what I’m describing? For example:

When you say ‘gaslighting’ — is someone systematically distorting your perception of reality, or are they disagreeing with you? Both can be painful. Only one is gaslighting.

When you say ‘boundary’ — are you describing something you will do, or something you need the other person to do? One is a boundary. The other is a request, and requests deserve to be made clearly, not dressed up as non-negotiables.

When you say ‘triggered’ — is this a trauma response, or discomfort? Discomfort is also worth naming. But naming it accurately matters.

When you say you ‘can’t engage’ — is that a genuine capacity limit, or is it a choice? Both are sometimes valid. But the distinction is worth being honest about, especially with the people close to you.

This isn't about proving that your experience isn't real. It's about using language that accurately reflects your experience — because accurate language builds trust, and imprecise language, over time, erodes it. None of this is a reason to be suspicious every time someone uses the word ‘boundary’ or says they’re feeling triggered. Most people are genuinely trying to communicate something real. The vocabulary gave them a way to do that, and that matters.

We owe it to ourselves — and to the people in our lives — to learn the language properly. To understand what we’re actually saying when we say it. To use these words as tools for connection, not armor against accountability. Real consent culture asks us to stay in the conversation, negotiate with the people we love, to hold our own needs without using them as a reason why the other person's needs don't count. The language of therapy can support that — when it's used honestly, when it's grounded in understanding, when it's part of a dialogue rather than a monologue.