How Psychobabble Is Ruining Our Relationships
What happens when we stop listening and start diagnosing.
Sarah sits across from me, visibly frustrated. "I've been setting boundaries with my mom like everyone says I should," she explains, "but now she won't talk to me at all. My old therapist said it was progress but I feel worse than ever."
This scene plays out daily in therapy offices across the country. What started as legitimate psychological concepts—boundaries, trauma, narcissism, gaslighting—have been simplified, sanitized, and scattered across social media until they've lost much of their original meaning. The result? A generation fluent in therapy-speak but struggling with the messy reality of human relationships.
The Boundary Industrial Complex
Perhaps no concept has been more weaponized than "setting boundaries." Instagram therapists present it as a panacea: feeling overwhelmed? Set boundaries. Family drama? Set boundaries. Difficult boss? You know the drill.
But here's what the memes and armchair experts don't tell you: boundaries aren't always the answer.
Take Michael, a 28-year-old who lives with his parents while saving for a house. "I keep reading that I need to set boundaries around their questions about my dating life," he tells me. "But I live in their house, eat their food, and they're genuinely worried about me being lonely. Maybe the boundary I need isn't with them, but with my own discomfort about being single."
Research in relationship science shows that healthy relationships require both autonomy and connection. When we overemphasize boundaries at the expense of interdependence, we risk creating what psychologist Eli Finkel calls "suffocation model" relationships—connections so focused on individual needs that they can't sustain the give-and-take that makes relationships meaningful.
The Trauma Trap
The overuse of trauma language presents another challenge. Clinical trauma—the kind that rewires your nervous system and fragments memory—is a specific psychological phenomenon. But in popular usage, "trauma" has expanded to include any negative or uncomfortable experience.
Lisa, a college student, came to therapy convinced she was "traumatized" by her parents' divorce when she was 16. "Everyone on TikTok says divorce is childhood trauma," she explained. While divorce is undeniably difficult for children, not every difficult experience creates lasting psychological injury. By labeling all challenges as traumatic, we lose sight of the learning and growth that often accompany them.
This isn't to minimize real trauma or suggest that stressful experiences don't matter. Rather, it's to recognize that overusing clinical language can paradoxically make us less equipped to handle life's inevitable difficulties.
The Narcissist Next Door
The casual diagnosis of narcissism presents similar problems. In clinical settings, Narcissistic Personality Disorder is a complex condition affecting less than 1% of the population. Online, everyone's ex, boss, or difficult family member gets the label.
"My sister is such a narcissist," David tells me, describing his sibling's tendency to dominate family conversations. When we dig deeper, it becomes clear that his sister isn't pathologically self-absorbed—she's anxious and uses talking as a way to manage her discomfort in social situations. The narcissist label allows David to disregard her rather than address the underlying family dynamics or have a direct conversation.
Research by psychologist Keith Campbell shows that true narcissism involves a specific pattern of grandiosity, entitlement, and lack of empathy that goes far beyond everyday selfishness or insensitivity. When we label normal human flaws as personality disorders, we shut down the possibility of understanding, empathy, and change.
The Gaslighting Epidemic
Perhaps no term has been more diluted than "gaslighting." Originally describing a specific pattern of psychological manipulation designed to make someone question their reality, it's now applied to any disagreement or different perspective.
"My husband is gaslighting me," Amanda reports, explaining that he disagrees with her assessment of their teenage son's behavior. But disagreement isn't gaslighting. Having a different perspective isn't manipulation. When we pathologize normal conflict, we lose the skills needed to navigate disagreement constructively.
Real gaslighting is insidious and harmful, involving deliberate attempts to undermine someone's perception of reality. Casual disagreement, even heated disagreement, is just part of being human.
Why We're Drawn to Therapy-Speak
The appeal of psychological language is understandable. It offers the illusion of clarity in complex situations and provides a sense of control over chaotic emotions. There's comfort in having a label for difficult experiences, and therapy language has given many people permission to prioritize their mental health in ways previous generations couldn't.
But like any powerful tool, psychological concepts can be misused. When we apply clinical frameworks to everyday challenges, we risk what psychologist Nick Haslam calls "concept creep"—the gradual expansion of psychological terms beyond their original meaning until they lose their utility.
A Better Way Forward
The goal isn't to abandon psychological insights—they've revolutionized our understanding of human behavior and helped millions of people. Instead, we need more nuanced applications of these concepts.
Rather than automatically "setting boundaries," consider whether the situation calls for boundaries, communication, compromise, acceptance or all the above.
Instead of labeling difficult people with personality disorders, try understanding their behavior in context.
Before declaring something traumatic, ask whether reframing the experience as challenging but manageable might be more empowering.
This doesn't mean returning to the "just get over it" mentality of previous generations. Think of it like the difference between having a box of eight crayons versus a set of 64 colors. Both can create a picture, but one allows for far more nuance and accuracy. When we rely solely on broad therapeutic labels, we're working with the eight-crayon box—everything gets colored with "trauma," "boundaries," or "toxic." When you upgrade to the full palette, you can make fine distinctions between different emotional states and respond with precision rather than broad strokes.
Reclaiming Nuance
The most profound insights in psychology aren't simple. They require us to hold multiple truths simultaneously: that we need both connection and autonomy, that difficult experiences can be both harmful and growth-promoting, that other people can be both flawed and worthy of compassion.
Sarah, the client struggling with her mother, eventually learned that her situation called not for rigid boundaries but for clear communication about her needs and values. Michael discovered that living with his parents required negotiating shared space rather than creating walls. David found that understanding his sister's anxiety made family gatherings more tolerable for everyone.
These solutions aren't as satisfying as simple formulas, but they're more honest about the complexity of human relationships. In a world increasingly hungry for quick fixes and clear villains, perhaps the most radical act is embracing the messy, ambiguous, ultimately hopeful reality of being human.
What If Kids Don’t Want More Screen Time—But More Freedom?
A growing number of kids are asking for what many adults didn't expect: less screen time, less constant supervision, and more real-life freedom. In an article for The Atlantic entitled “What Kids Told Us About How to Get Them Off Their Phones,” Lenore Skenazy, Zach Rausch, and Jonathan Haidt highlight how smartphones and overparenting have combined to erode unstructured play and independence—key ingredients in healthy development. Bottom line: Children thrive when trusted, not tracked—and that giving them more autonomy might be exactly what they need right now. Read it here.
@Dr. Samantha Boardman - Thank you for writing this piece. As a therapist, I see firsthand how psychological language, say when reduced to online soundbites, can unintentionally heighten self-blame, stifle exploration and reinforce the very inner critics we're trying to work with and lessen.
Rather than diagnosing what’s “wrong,” I aim to help people become more curious about their experience, such aspects like what hurts, what helps, what patterns show up for all of us over time. Obviously, concepts like boundaries, trauma or narcissism can be incredibly useful when held with care and discussed within a certain context but not as rigid labels. I think of them more as entry points for deeper exploration and reflection. Otherwise, we risk turning our inner life into something foreign, labeled, concretized in a non fluid pathological manner as opposed to a space for genuine curiosity and healing.
For me, therapy and perhaps words that come out in relation to it, at its best, isn’t about slotting people into categories. It’s about helping ourselves explore who they are, their very human condition and to live out more fully inside the complexity of being human.
This reminds me of a great book by Allen Francis called Saving Normal. I highly recommend it to anyone that works in the field.