People who live life with love and kindness usually avoid these 9 toxic phrases

We learn who we are through what we say—especially under stress.

When I worked in finance, the most respected leaders weren’t just sharp with numbers; they were careful with words.

They could be direct without being demeaning, honest without being harsh. That balance matters everywhere—at work, at home, in the checkout line.

If you want your relationships to feel lighter, safer, and more nourishing, start by retiring a few phrases that quietly poison connection.

Below are nine I avoid (and what I say instead).

1. “That’s just how I am.”

Have you ever heard someone use this line right after they’ve snapped at a colleague or made a hurtful joke? It’s a linguistic shrug—a way to dodge responsibility by treating personality like destiny.

When I’m tempted to dig in my heels, I ask: Do I want to be “right,” or do I want to grow?

Kindness chooses growth. Instead of “That’s just how I am,” try: “You’re right—I didn’t handle that well. I’m working on it.”

It keeps your dignity and honors the other person’s experience. Accountability is an act of love.

2. “You always…” / “You never…”

Absolutes corner people. They erase nuance and turn one incident into a character indictment.

The Gottman Institute famously found that contempt and chronic criticism—think sweeping “always/never” statements—predict relationship breakdown; “contempt is the single greatest predictor of divorce.”

When we generalize, we invite defensiveness instead of dialogue.

Swap the global accusation for a specific observation, feeling, and request: “When the dishes sit overnight, I feel stressed starting my day. Could we make a plan to rinse them after dinner?”

Specifics reduce shame and make solutions visible.

3. “Calm down.”

Has anyone in history calmed down because someone ordered them to?

This phrase pours gasoline on a fire because it invalidates the emotion in front of you. If the goal is de-escalation, validation works better than commands.

Try: “I can see you’re really upset. Do you want to take a breather or talk it through now?” The tone says, I’m with you.

You’re not broken for feeling this. Often, that’s all a nervous system needs to soften.

4. “If you loved me, you’d…”

This is manipulation dressed up as romance. It puts love on trial and turns intimacy into compliance.

Real closeness can’t be coerced; it’s offered freely in response to a clear, honest need.

What I say instead: “I’m feeling a bit disconnected. Quality time is huge for me—could we plan a tech-free walk tonight?” Notice the difference?

No guilt, no ultimatum, just a courageous ask.

5. “It’s not a big deal.” / “You’re too sensitive.”

Even if you mean to reassure, phrases like these can come off as gaslighting-lite.

They tell the other person that their inner reality is wrong. Kindness doesn’t require agreement—but it always makes room for experience.

Try: “It seems this really landed hard for you. Can you tell me more?” Curiosity is disarming. It communicates respect even when perspectives differ.

Later, if you still see it differently, you can share that gently: “I see it another way—can I walk you through my view?”

6. “Whatever.” / “I don’t care.”

I used to say “Whatever” when I felt overwhelmed in meetings. It wasn’t apathy; it was avoidance.

But the effect was the same—people heard dismissal. Indifference freezes connection because it removes you from the shared problem.

Love stays engaged and clear. Brené Brown has a phrase I keep on a sticky note above my desk: “Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind.”

Instead of “Whatever,” try: “I’m torn between options A and B—my vote is B because of the timeline.” Or, if you truly don’t have a preference: “I’m flexible. You choose, and I’ll support it.”

Clarity communicates care.

7. “I told you so.”

It’s tempting, right? When your prediction comes true, this phrase delivers a little dopamine hit of superiority.

But it adds nothing except shame—and shame is a terrible teacher.

A kinder response focuses on learning, not gloating. “Okay, that didn’t work out. What will we do differently next time?”

If it’s your partner, your kid, or your teammate, you’re on the same side. Treat setbacks like a joint lab report, not a courtroom exhibit.

8. “That’s stupid.” (or sarcasm as a shortcut)

Sarcasm can be playful among people who share context and trust.

But when it’s used to mask frustration or score points, it erodes safety. Labels like “stupid,” “lazy,” or “dramatic” collapse a living, breathing human into a single insult—and invite them to defend, not dialogue.

I lean on curiosity as an antidote. “Help me understand the thinking here.” Or: “What problem is this idea trying to solve?”

If there’s a real issue, name it without the sting: “My worry is the budget risk. Can we sketch a lower-cost version?” Direct ≠ demeaning.

9. “Sorry you feel that way.”

This is the classic non-apology. It sounds like contrition but sidesteps responsibility by putting the problem in the other person’s reaction.

If you meant harm, own it. If you didn’t, own the impact.

A real apology includes three parts: (1) acknowledgment of what you did, (2) empathy for the impact, (3) a plan to repair or change. “I interrupted you in the meeting. That was disrespectful and it put you in a tough spot. I’ll slow down, and next time I’ll make sure you finish your point.”

That’s accountability with heart.

How to make language more loving (without becoming a doormat)

Kind speech isn’t about walking on eggshells. It’s about telling the truth with care. Here are a few simple swaps I use daily:

• From judgment to description: “You were late again” → “You arrived at 9:20; I felt anxious waiting.”

• From blame to request: “You never listen” → “I need five minutes of full attention—can we do that now?”

• From assumptions to curiosity: “You obviously don’t care” → “What was happening for you there?”

Small shifts add up. Over months, they create relationships where people feel seen instead of scrutinized.

A quick self-audit you can try today

If you want a practical way to start, keep a mini language log for one week. Nothing fancy—just a few notes in your phone:

• What situations trigger your sharpest words? (Running late, money talks, family?)

• Which phrase above do you use most?

• What’s one replacement sentence you can practice?

Then ask someone who loves you, “What do you wish I’d say more?” It’s vulnerable, yes. It’s also a shortcut to intimacy.

When boundaries and kindness coexist

A final note, because I hear this a lot: “If I stop using the hard-edged phrases, won’t people walk all over me?” Not if you pair kindness with clear boundaries. Firmness and warmth are teammates.

• “I care about you, and I’m not available to talk at midnight. Let’s pick this up tomorrow.”

• “I value our friendship, and I’m not comfortable with jokes about my body. Please stop.”

• “I want to help, but I can’t take on another project. I can review your draft on Friday for ten minutes.”

Clear, kind language protects your energy without punishing other people’s humanity. As noted earlier, research on communication shows that contempt corrodes trust fast Gottman Institute.

Boundaries—delivered cleanly—do the opposite: they build respect.

Final thoughts

The phrases we avoid say as much about us as the ones we embrace.

People who lead with love and kindness aren’t soft—they’re skillful. They choose language that makes room for accountability, repair, and real connection.

If one (or several) of these phrases lives in your vocabulary, welcome to the club. You’re human. Start with one swap this week.

Notice what changes in the temperature of your conversations. And remember Brené Brown’s wisdom: “Clear is kind. Unclear is unkind.”

That’s a compass you can use anywhere—boardroom, backyard, or the checkout line.