Over the past decade, mental health literacy has gone mainstream. Therapy language used to be confined to clinical settings and academic journals, but now, it crops up everywhere from TikTok captions to relationship arguments. We talk about “boundaries,” “triggers,” “emotional labor,” and “inner children” with the fluency of a licensed counselor or social worker.

This cultural therapeutic reckoning looks a lot like progress—and in many ways, it definitely is. Greater awareness has reduced stigma surrounding mental health, helped people articulate their needs, and given people the necessary courage to seek professional help. That said, there’s also a newfound downside to this therapeutic fluency, which is showing up most predominantly in everyday relationships.

Very few non-professionals using this language have a full, well-rounded academic understanding of the concepts they’re actually invoking. As a result of this, therapy language has quickly started to lose its original meaning. Instead, it’s become a crutch, a shield, or even a moral high ground.

Here’s how this can backfire in relationships, according to psychological research.

1. Therapy Language Weaponizes Boundaries

Few therapy terms have entered popular culture as fully (or as confusingly) as boundaries have. In clinical contexts, boundaries are about self-regulation: what you will do to protect your emotional, physical, or psychological well-being. However, pop-psychology often reduces boundaries to the most superficial version of the definition: self-protection. And as soon as the definition is shortened, it becomes incredibly easy to confuse boundaries with rules.

However, the difference between these two concepts matters much more than most people would imagine. Crucially, boundaries serve to govern your own behavior, whereas rules govern someone else’s. For instance:

A boundary sounds like, “If voices are raised during arguments, I’m going to take a break and revisit the conversation later.”
A rule sounds like, “You’re not allowed to raise your voice when you’re upset.”

Yet, therapy language is frequently used to dress rules up as boundaries. Someone might say, “I’m setting a boundary,” when what they’re actually doing is issuing a demand, an ultimatum, or a unilateral condition that their partner has to obey.

For example, a partner might say, “My boundary is that you can’t talk to your ex anymore. If you do, you’re disrespecting my mental health.” As soon as a request is made like this, disagreements or disputes are framed as emotional harm, as opposed to a difference of opinion or a concern.

This problem isn’t new. A 2015 review published in Frontiers in Psychology notes that psychological constructs are often inherently ambiguous, which can invite looseness in how they’re used. The authors argued that when core concepts feel murky, people may falsely assume precision isn’t essential. And this is a problem that extends beyond academia into popular usage.

Indeed, inaccurate or misleading use of psychological language has long been an issue. What’s changed is that pop-psychology terms like “codependent,” “toxic,” “dysfunctional,” “inner child,” and “boundaries” now circulate widely in everyday conflicts. However, they’re often shared without a meaningful definition or important disambiguation.

When “boundaries” are weaponized by means of therapeutic jargon, they can quickly become emotionally manipulative. They shut down dialogue and place one partner in a position of moral authority. And, most dangerously, they imply that compliance is the only ethical option.

2. Therapy Language Pathologizes Partners Unnecessarily

Clinical psychology is an objectively fascinating field. Many people genuinely enjoy learning about their own patterns, attachment histories, or maladaptive coping strategies. And, indeed, this kind of self-reflection can be empowering; insights from it can facilitate both personal and interpersonal growth. That said, it’s crucial to note that exposure does not equate to expertise.

As psychology has surged in popularity online and in self-help spaces, people have become familiar with concepts that are often oversimplified, outdated, or flat-out incorrect. A 2014 study published in Teaching of Psychology examined the prevalence of psychological myths among both psychology students and the general population.

Across 829 participants, the authors of the study found that psychological misconceptions were numerous, widely held, and often fairly divisive. But perhaps even more strikingly, having a formal psychological education only modestly reduced belief in these myths.

In other words, even some psychology students retained many inaccuracies. This means that partial knowledge is both common and persistent. And in relationships, this incomplete knowledge can do real harm.

For instance, one partner might accuse the other of being “emotionally avoidant” for asking for time alone after a conflict. Or, a partner might label a disagreement as “gaslighting” simply because their memories differ from the other’s. Or, worse, a partner might interpret normal fluctuations in desire as evidence of “attachment trauma” or “repressed intimacy issues.”

This is where prejudicial cognitive errors can creep in, too. By nature, we humans are excellent pattern-seekers, so much so that we can see them when they aren’t actually there. This tendency (known as pareidolia) can lead us to interpret neutral or ordinary behavior as evidence of pathology.

When partners are unnecessarily pathologized, they soon start to feel scrutinized. It can be humiliating and belittling to have your normal human traits—introversion, stress, defensiveness, forgetfulness—reframed as symptoms. This is even worse if the reframing is made by someone who’s supposed to love and support you.

Over time, this can make a partner feel flawed, or as though there’s something fundamentally “wrong” with them that needs fixing. Ironically, this dynamic undermines the very safety that therapy language is often used to protect.

A version of this post also appears on Forbes.com.