The language of therapy has become almost unavoidable. It shows up in casual conversations, social media posts, podcasts, and even in the way people describe their everyday life. Terms that once mostly lived inside clinical spaces, such as “gaslighting” or “triggers,” now circulate freely and are often detached from their original context. Therapy, in this sense, has shifted from something personal and specialized into something more widely consumed. It has, in many ways, become a commodity.
This shift is not inherently negative. For decades, therapy was stigmatized and seen as something exclusively reserved for moments of crisis or instability. The growing normalization of mental health has made it easier for people to seek help without the fear of judgment; more people recognize when they are struggling, and more people can feel justified in their wanting of support. Hsin-Ya Liao, an associate professor of psychology at Washington State University, explains that this shift has been driven by “increased mental health literacy in schools and among the general public,” as well as the influence of “media and social media.” Similarly, Marlow Bollinger, a senior at Franklin who is in therapy, notes that this visibility “combats the old idea [that] only people who have severe mental health issues [should go] to therapy,” adding that he has seen more messaging showing how therapy can benefit a wider range of people.
At the same time, the way therapy is now packaged raises questions about how seriously it is taken. When therapeutic language becomes part of everyday speech, it can lose precision. Saying something “triggered” you could refer to anything from a deeply-rooted trauma response to a mild discomfort. While this broad usage makes emotional expression more accessible, it can also flatten the meaning of experiences that are very different in scale and impact. Bollinger points out the term “gaslighting” as an example, remarking that, “[It has] kind of lost its meaning since it’s applied to so many completely unrelated scenarios now.”
The rise of therapy-styled online content has also contributed to this shift. Short videos, infographics, and self-help posts have the space to help break down complex psychological ideas to make them easier to engage with. According to Liao, “More people use social media as a way to advocate [for] mental health,” and these platforms have “decreased the stigma associated with mental health illness and seeking professional help.” In this sense, therapy has become more visible and more approachable than ever before.
However, the same content can also create an illusion of personal understanding. Therapy, by nature, is a slow and often uncomfortable process. It involves sitting with uncertainty, revisiting difficult experiences, and working through patterns of behavior over time. When this process is reduced to quick insights via a video someone sees online, it risks being misunderstood as something more straightforward than it actually is. Bollinger observes that much of the content he sees “portrays therapy as a different kind of doctor visit,” where someone can come in, quickly “talk about a few things, … get a diagnosis, and go home,” even though in reality, “It’s a very personalized experience for each individual.” The depth of the work becomes secondary to the appearance of progress.
As therapy becomes more mainstream, it can influence personal relationships. People may be more likely to articulate their needs and boundaries, which can lead to healthier and more communicative dynamics. The idea of setting boundaries, for example, has become widely accepted as a part of maintaining wellbeing. This allows for individuals to step away from harmful situations and prioritize their mental health in ways that they might not have thought to do otherwise.
At the same time, therapeutic language can be used in ways that shut down conversations rather than opening them up. Labeling someone’s behaviour with clinical terms can sometimes replace genuine communication. Instead of working through conflict, people may rely on predefined frameworks that oversimplify the situation. This can create distance rather than understanding, especially when those frameworks are applied without nuance. Bollinger suggests that one way to avoid this is by “not turning it into slang terms and actually keeping the intended meaning.”
The commodification of therapy is also visible in the platforms and services emerging from it. Therapy apps, subscription-based counseling, and self-guided mental health programs offer convenience and accessibility. As Liao notes, “With the aid of technology, people can get access to mental health resources easily.” For people who might not otherwise have access to traditional therapy, these options can be valuable. They reduce barriers such as cost, location, and scheduling, ultimately making support more widely available.
Yet, the convenience of these services can also contribute to the idea that therapy is something to be consumed rather than something to engage with. When therapy is framed as a product — something that can be started, paused, or replaced as easily as a streaming subscription — it changes the expectations of what someone is meant to get out of it. Bollinger expresses concern that people may begin therapy based on what they have seen online and “not fully commit … [or] drop it after a short time,” because short-form content often fails to show that therapy is “a long-term process aimed at helping you feel better and healthier.”
There are also ethical concerns that emerge as therapy becomes more product-oriented. Liao points out that, “Many AI-assisted therapy [tools], which are often considered as products, have become increasingly popular.” These tools — digital platforms or chatbots that use AI to simulate therapeutic support through guided exercises, mood tracking, or conversational responses — are advancing quickly, but “there is still a lack of regulations,” Liao explains, and the implications for mental health are not fully understood.
These developments raise questions about accountability, quality of care, and the limitations of technology in addressing deeply human experiences. Bollinger is also skeptical of app-based therapy, saying that he does not “care for therapy apps like BetterHelp at all,” because they lack “the rapport … and the sense of personal connection” found in face-to-face, long-term sessions.
As therapy becomes more integrated into everyday discourse, the distinction between professional guidance and general advice has become less clear. People may turn to influencers or content creators for insights that resemble therapy, when in reality, those individuals lack the training and accountability of licensed professionals. While these voices can offer support and relatability, they are not a substitute for individualized care. Bollinger adds that he worries people may begin to see therapy as “a cure instead of a technique that may or may not help everybody,” further complicating expectations.
Still, it would be inaccurate to frame this shift as entirely detrimental. The widespread presence of therapy-related ideas reflects a broader cultural movement towards better self awareness. People are more attuned to their emotions, more willing to question behavioral patterns, and more open to discussing mental health as a whole. Looking ahead, Liao suggests that balance is possible by “increas[ing] the modality of therapy across various settings — [such as] online spaces, community, and hospitals — while increasing the number of trained mental health professionals.” This approach emphasizes both accessibility and professional integrity.
In the end, therapy’s transformation into something more public and commodified reflects the culture around it. It mirrors a desire for quick understanding, for language that can explain difficult feelings, and for solutions that feel within reach. But therapy itself resists an oversimplification of that nature. It is not a fixed set of terms or strategies, but an ongoing process that unfolds over time. As therapy continues to evolve in the digital realm, the dilemma is not whether or not it should remain exclusive or become accessible. Instead, it is how people choose to engage with it. Whether therapy is treated as a meaningful practice or reduced to a collection of phrases will ultimately shape what it becomes.
