The Rise of Therapy-Speak in Social Media

In 2024, an article in Bustle explored the increasingly common use of therapy-speak on social media—a blend of clinical language and internet slang that’s now infiltrating how we communicate daily. Have you ever been told that your request for clarification was “violating someone’s boundary”? Or had someone “hold space” for you so abstractly you weren’t sure whether you’d just had a conversation or attended a séance?

Even as someone who’s used therapy-speak myself—canceling plans because I was “honoring my needs” or “lacking the spoons”—I’ve started to wonder if we’ve gone too far. Katy Waldman, in The New Yorker's “The Rise of Therapy-Speak,” writes that “invoking ‘trauma’ where ‘harm’ might suffice could play into the hands of people who despise and fear vulnerability.”

What was once a language designed to foster healing and communication has, in some cases, become a tool for avoidance. Instead of engaging in conflict, we label it toxic. Instead of clarifying our needs, we cut people off. As Lori Gottlieb puts it in the same article, armchair or “Instagram” therapy can strip a “deeply relational, nuanced, contextual process” into something ego-directed: “I’m the most important person and I need to take care of myself.”

Growth doesn’t happen in a vacuum. And it definitely doesn’t happen in a bubble where nothing can trigger us.

So, what exactly is therapy-speak? According to Rebecca Fishbein in Bustle, “therapy-speak is prescriptive language describing certain psychological concepts and behaviors. It's generally formal... sort of scripted in a way that removes culpability.”

You see it all over TikTok and Instagram: creators (often without credentials) talking about self-worth, boundaries, trauma responses, and narcissists in polished soundbites and pastel quote graphics. Sometimes it's educational. Sometimes it's empowering. But sometimes, it's just astrology with a psychology degree.

Like horoscopes, therapy-speak thrives on vague but emotionally resonant language. When it hits, it feels like truth. When it doesn’t, we shrug and blame the algorithm. Either way, it’s easy to internalize—and easier still to repeat.

That’s where the problem starts. Instead of using therapy tools to grow, many people use them to explain, excuse, or deflect. It’s not introspection—it’s branding.

Gaslighting – Originally a reference to the 1944 film Gaslight, the term describes a deliberate pattern of psychological abuse meant to make someone question their reality. Today, it's often misapplied to any disagreement or manipulation—blurring the line between toxic behavior and basic conflict.

Narcissist – Rooted in Greek mythology, the term once referred specifically to those with Narcissistic Personality Disorder. Now it's a catch-all for emotionally unavailable exes, selfish bosses, and anyone who posts too many selfies.

Triggered – Once a clinical term related to PTSD and trauma responses, now casually used to describe annoyance or discomfort. But there’s a difference between being reminded of trauma and just being offended.

Trauma – Previously used to describe profound psychological injury, trauma is now used to refer to anything from childhood neglect to missing out on Taylor Swift tickets. The result? We flatten serious experiences into everyday irritation.

Boundaries – At its core, a boundary is a clear guideline for what someone can or can’t do in your emotional space. But therapy-speak sometimes uses boundaries to preemptively shut down conversations or as justification for ghosting, rather than tools for deeper connection.

Main Character Energy – Coined to encourage people (especially women and marginalized folks) to center their own stories, it’s now sometimes wielded as a license for self-absorption. Not everyone else in your life is an NPC.

Mental health destigmatization has made people more willing to explore emotions

Social media algorithms reward emotional, shareable, bite-sized content

People crave frameworks to understand themselves and explain their experiences

Fishbein notes that “conflict can be difficult, and people might think they can avoid it by asserting their needs in a way that prevents the other person from responding.” Framing behavior as “boundaries” or “emotional labor” can seem more legitimate—even virtuous.

On the bright side, therapy-speak gives people access to concepts that were once locked behind a therapist’s door. For many, it's the first step toward healing.

But a vocabulary isn’t the same as fluency. When people latch onto buzzwords without context, it creates the illusion of self-awareness without the messy work of growth. We run the risk of becoming the very thing we're trying to avoid: disconnected, defensive, and emotionally unavailable—just with better vocabulary.

There’s nuance here. Take ADHD, for example. Social media helped people like me recognize patterns we thought were just flaws. I eventually sought diagnosis and support—and finally got language to describe challenges I had spent years trying to overcome in silence.

But here’s the catch: diagnosis didn’t absolve me. It gave me a map. The work is still mine. I don’t expect people to accommodate my chaos; I just want to understand it better. If I stopped there—if I used it only as a reason for my behavior rather than a motivation to do better—I’d still be just as stuck.

Therapy-speak isn't inherently bad. Language evolves—and sometimes, that evolution empowers. But if we want meaningful connection, we can’t stop at the script.

Healing means more than self-protection. It means communication, humility, and showing up—even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard. The goal isn’t to stay safe forever. The goal is to be well enough to risk connection again.