Beware Theratalk
I think, as someone who’s been in therapy for nearly 10 years, that almost everyone could benefit from attending therapy. Societally, we seem to agree with this. As we get more and more aware of therapy buzzwords, though, the line between the good and the bad of therapy talk (theratalk) blurs.
There is much to say, and much that has been said already, about those who learn just enough in therapy to weaponize it, without looking inward. They use it to manipulate, to defend themselves, to guilt. And that’s something I’ll write about another day. The former is intentional. They use therapy lingo to get what they want, to be slippery and unkind. The kind I’m about to describe means well, I think! But is misguided.
This less sinister, but not fantastic, trend that I have been seeing for years is one in which someone couches their real, blunt emotions in nebulous terms. Once you know to look out for it, it becomes easy to translate. But if you’re entangled with someone who’s using this method of communication, it’s easy to get confused about what you’re even discussing. It’s also important to note that theratalk isn’t actually therapy language. It’s distant, amorphous verbiage that’s meant to employ concepts discussed in therapy: concepts like boundaries, independence, control, toxicity. And more than anything, it’s a mindset.
In my life, the broader acceptance of therapy began roughly during the Tumblr era, when mental illness became fetishized. It was a sign of artsiness, uniqueness, intellectual & emotional depth, quirkiness, Lana Del Rey-adjacency. In turn, referring to your own mental illness/trauma became normalized (and spun into the common refrain, “my trauma made me funny,” which is thankfully dying out today). A good litmus test for whether a concept has become less taboo is whether corporations are using it for sales, and many companies today leverage mental health, in some shape or form. In the realm of consumer goods, this often comes in the form of X% of proceeds going to a mental health nonprofit, use of words like “self care” and “wellness,” or Instagram posts for World Mental Health Day. Internally, companies have learned that they can use these same psychological buzzwords to (at least appear to) treat their employees better. But, as with many things, that’s a discussion for another day.
Also for another day:
what we consider “acceptable” mental illnesses, like anxiety and depression, and what we don’t
how productive or helpful the general proliferation of all these concepts in media/normal conversation is
whether companies make good on their mental health PR promises to employees and consumers
likely a billion other things I’ve forgotten to mention
My point here is that therapy and its conceptual cousins appear frequently in colloquial conversation, particularly after Covid mentally destroyed everyone. And it’s amazing that we’re all working to destigmatize mental health struggles, to actually talk about them, to help each other and ourselves. I am fully in support of that! But sometimes, it backfires.
Also of note: The theratalk I’m discussing today doesn’t really touch the rampant overuse of words like “gaslight” and “toxic,” though those definitely qualify. That kind of quasi-diagnosis is commonly discussed and critiqued online, as it should be! Instead, I want to delve into theratalk more broadly, as an approach to how we explain and communicate our feelings. It’s a bit slippery and definitely nuanced, and therefore less talked about.
Some online figures, several of whom say they are therapists or otherwise qualified, recommend going about your life through theratalk. They frame it as ultra-communicative, peace-seeking, healthy, and self-aware. In a vacuum, it’s very easy for me to understand why someone would think that speaking this way is the healthiest option. But in practice, I’m frustrated.
The theratalker doesn’t use the direct or action words that are interpreted with ease. Illustration is the best way to explain this. For the rest of this letter, I am going to refer to the theratalker as “Charlie,” because it’s ambiguous and the word theratalker can get pretty annoying to read. Sorry if your name is Charlie!
In the following examples, the offender is the non-Charlie. In these scenarios, the person who is ultimately hurt by talking around feelings is…Charlie. Their attempt to be fair and open actually sabotages what is likely an attempt to stand up for themselves. Theratalk’s squishy qualities allow Charlie’s conversation partner to flip every problem on its head, eventually evading blame.
Example 1:
Straightforward statement: You ditched me yesterday. I’m disappointed and sad and mad.
Theratalk translation: You took space when I was hoping for quality time. Maybe the expectation of a plan was too much of a burden, so we can work to find something you have the bandwidth for.
Example 2:
Straightforward: I’m hurt that you went out with someone else when I thought it was pretty clear that we were dating.
Theratalk: I have some boundaries around monogamy, but I understand if that feels restrictive to you. Maybe we should take space to reflect internally and then discuss?
Look how forgiving Charlie is, about very normal reactions to upsetting situations! They’re laying all the groundwork for their partner to wriggle out of this conflict, and likely, their partner will even receive sympathy. In example one, Charlie assumes they were a burden to their partner for simply expecting follow-through on a plan. In example two, they assume they’ve unfairly restricted their partner. I don’t know Charlie and their partner, so of course extenuating circumstances could totally justify all of the above. But in a vacuum, what a disservice to Charlie, who has been at a disadvantage from the jump because of their attempt to be ultra-fair and openminded.
Charlie wants to avoid aggression or anger. They want to avoid pain and words relating to pain. They want to find a solution, but in a roundabout way, because theratalk is all about boundaries and the negotiation thereof.
To a non-Charlie, emotions are relatively concrete and defined (with room for change, one hopes). Sadness, anger, jealousy. To Charlie, emotions are malleable, because Charlie wants to be open to other people’s feelings in the matter. Not only is Charlie open, they MUST be receptive and non-judgmental. They’re loath to express visceral reactions, instead wanting to reach a conclusion slowly and after much thought. This is interesting, and takes us to our first conundrum regarding theratalk. Charlie believes that they are incredibly in touch with their feelings, introspective, and communicative. However, they are actually quite difficult to read. After all, what does Charlie want? What do they think, in the moment? How do they feel about what you just said? They mull everything over, with the intent to be emotional intelligent. But in thinking their feelings through, they distance themselves from both their own feelings and their conversation partner’s.
Another dissonance in Charlie’s method is that they are both independent and entirely dependent. They want to maintain boundaries, be a self-sustaining emotional ecosystem, and self-validate rather than relying on others. Yet, at the same time, they do not want to feel big feelings or make decisions without checking on what others think. They remain open to others’ opinions, resist jumping to conclusions, and have a difficult time making definitive statements. In my experience meeting people who talk this way and seeing them online, they often end up wanting polyamorous or open relationships, because these allow them to feel independent while having many theoretically close relationships in their orbit. What happens when you give a little bit to a lot of people? You stay distant but feel close. And when you use theratalk for everything, you get to believe that you are consistently vulnerable. After all, therapy is vulnerable. Emotions are vulnerable. But when we resist direct language (“I’m sad,” “I’m hurt,” “I’m lonely”), we end up becoming flowery and not saying much at all.
On the flip side of the previous situations, Theratalk comes in most handy when Charlie is the offender.
Example 3:
Straightforward: I cheated because I don’t like monogamy.
Theratalk: I feel restrained by our exclusivity, and my energy can’t be spent on only one person. I need stimulation from multiple partners to feel independent and free, and the emotional labor required to sustain monogamy is greater than my bandwidth. I understand if you need space, but I’m drawing a boundary around monogamy and expanding how I relate to the world romantically.
The above is obviously an extreme and semi-satirical example. And, to Charlie’s credit, they’re providing an in-depth and reflective explanation for their behavior. However, this conversation has become one-sided precisely because of their self-reflection. They’ve given so many of their own reasons that they are now miles away from the core issue: being cheated on feels bad. Cheating is not what this couple agreed on.
Suddenly, cheating isn’t cheating; it’s self-imposed freedom from monogamy. It’s self-care, actually, and therefore deserves forgiveness. In some cases, if Charlie’s partner doesn’t forgive them, then Charlie will feel wronged. After all, their partner didn’t respect their need for less restrictive parameters. Charlies will often be the first to forgive themselves, without atoning for any transgressions. Often, they’ll say things to the effect of “I’ve done the work.” It pretty much sucks for everyone else if Charlie’s inner work takes place in a hall of mirrors. That’s how the Charlies of the world sometimes end up feeling deeply wronged, not realizing that their journey of self-forgiveness didn’t include anyone else.
If almost everyone is good at their core, then most people’s reasons for doing most things will make some modicum of sense. People can behave horribly and have sympathetic reasons, if you peel back each layer. So who’s the most likely to forgive you when you do something bad? Who’s most likely to understand all of your motivations, even if they go back to childhood? YOU! And theratalk, in its most dangerous form, encourages you to sit and forgive. TO BE CLEAR: forgiving yourself rocks!! But if you are doing it just to escape feeling bad, or just to justify yourself, or without taking away any lessons, it can be a great way to make other people feel nuts.
So my imaginary Charlie has stealthily changed the situation from “Partner X breaking the established dynamic by doing something hurtful” to “Partners X was coerced into agreeing to monogamy, and cheating is to be expected when you restrict someone’s freedom and place parameters around their social behavior.” Like—I guess? What can you even say to the second version? It’s abstraction disguised as concreteness, and it’s stuffed so full of words that the listener is bound to lose their footing. TO BE CLEAR: I am not disparaging anyone’s relationship structures, or interpersonal issues, or psyches, yadda yadda. This method of roundabout communication might work for people!
Meanwhile, I’m sure theratalk feels particularly gratifying for the one doing it, when they’re the offender. No matter their intent—and I’m inclined to believe most people’s intentions are good, or at least not malicious—Charlie has widened the parameters around accountability. Now, Charlie and Charlie’s partner share the burden. “We’re both hurt,” Charlie might say. This might be true, but was it really the point of the conversation? Was this the topic Charlie’s partner wanted to discuss? Somehow, Charlie’s infidelity has become a reasonable response to the pain that their partner theoretically instigated long before this conversation ever happened.
So what next? I’m concerned for everyone involved here, Charlie and non-Charlie alike. All of this ambiguous language, words that can be mushed around until they don’t mean much of anything at all, is just baffling. Again, I stress: I want people to be reflective, and communicative, and state their boundaries, and consider all perspectives. I think all of those things rule!! And if someone can make theratalk work for them and the people around them, I sincerely think that’s a delight. (Maybe when it’s a Charlie-on-Charlie situation. I’ll get to that another day. Can of worms.) But theratalk is very good at masquerading as healthy, using the principle that more roundabout = better for everyone. Sometimes it’s better just to SAY you’re upset! As someone who’s spent a lot of time working on not hedging her feelings & not spending all her time accommodating everyone else, I’d know.
The last point I’ll make for now: there’s this notion, this vibe, of self-respect and boundary-setting for your own mental health. And I love that, obviously. But I’ve noticed that it gets confused for being…selfish, feeling like you don’t owe anyone anything at all. And it’s funny, because there’s a lot of crossover between this mindset and the camp of people who are kind of commune/hippie-ish. Do you know what I mean? It’s a kind of “come together” mentality (which I love) contrasted against that of “me first.”
It’s like the contradiction between Charlie’s yearning to be a self-contained emotional ecosystem and their desire to be flexible. Where does radical self love turn into self-centeredness or unwillingness to accommodate other people? It’s a tough spot to be in, to want community and empathy in all scenarios, but not to uphold your end of things. Because sometimes, the conversation becomes one in which Charlie isn’t going to their friend’s birthday party, for no real reason other than they don’t feel like it—which is fine, maybe, but Charlie can’t really expect to be treated like a great friend after multiple rounds of offenses like that. And often, Charlies say they prioritize being a great friend/partner over everything.
Self love is at its best when it’s done out of love for yourself, not when it’s an excuse for lack of empathy or consideration for others.It’s the trait we often assign to baby boomers, wrapped in new language so it sounds better. AKA…everything I just wrote about.
Note: I may write another time about the traits Zoomers & Boomers share. For ex: being mean online. Zoomers preach anti-bullying, for example, but can often be found being objectively mean, publicly, to people they think look lame or weird or embarrassing. They just do it differently. Instead of commenting “ugly,” they’ll comment “makeup but make it✨bad✨”. Or maybe they’ll just post themselves looking blankly at the screen alongside footage of someone dancing badly, and we intuitively understand that the point is to laugh at said dancer. Yet, like Boomers, they’ll be SO bold about it. Boomers aren’t quite used to the internet’s lack of privacy, and Zoomers are TOO used to it, so both camps often just use their full names or faces or whatever when doing absurd and mean things online. Additionally, Zoomers are more inclined to feel they need justification when not liking someone/something. It’s not enough to say you think something’s annoying—their “energy has to not match yours”. Sounds a bit like theratalk creeping in, huh? So when the chance comes, and they find a time when someone was problematic or something, they jump at it and let loose all the things they couldn’t say. Did you do [bad thing]? Amazing—we finally get to unleash our [mean concept] onto you! It doesn’t count as mean or bad, because you fucked up. We’d think it was excessive if someone ELSE said what we’re saying, but when we do it it’s just called consequences.
And all of the above brings up the question: does everything that has to do with your feelings = mental health?
Love you love you, bye!