The Words We Use: How Language Shapes Power, Silence, and Change

By Dr. Michele D’Amico

We tend to think of language as neutral as simply a way to describe what happened. But language is never just descriptive; it’s deeply powerful. It shapes perception. It directs emotion. It either shields truth or reveals it.

Nowhere is this more apparent than in how we speak about women, especially in the context of harm, ambition, and power.

Flipping the Script

Consider the difference between these two sentences:

• “She was abused.”
• “He abused her.”

The first sounds passive, as if abuse happened to her without context or cause. The second centers the perpetrator and names the act. This is not semantics, it’s a shift in accountability. When we default to passive language, we often protect the abuser and make the victim invisible.

This linguistic pattern shows up everywhere:

• “She was beaten” instead of “He beat her.”
• “She was found dead” instead of “He killed her.”
• “She stayed” instead of “She survived.”
• “She overreacted” instead of “She responded to harm.”

By centering women’s actions and minimizing male accountability, our cultural narrative distorts who is responsible and who is allowed to speak, lead, or even survive.

The Cost of Softened Truth

Language doesn’t just reflect culture; it reinforces it. When we say a woman “was in a toxic relationship,” we soften the blow. What we often mean is: she was manipulated, emotionally abused, possibly endangered. But the phrase “toxic relationship” lets the abuser off the hook and dilutes the seriousness of the harm.

The same goes for phrases like “drama,” “catfight,” or “girl problems.” These terms are frequently used to dismiss women’s pain, conflict, or assertiveness as irrational or petty. What might be a legitimate boundary or expression of anger gets reframed as overreaction. These phrases have a chilling effect: they teach women to doubt their instincts, mute their responses, and tolerate disrespect.

How We Talk About Girls

From the time girls are small, the words used to describe them are vastly different from those used for boys.

She is bossy.
He is a leader.

She is too much.
He is confident.

She is emotional.
He is passionate.

We praise girls for being “good,” “quiet,” and “pretty.” We celebrate their compliance. And when they start to take up space by asking questions, saying no, or expressing big emotions we use language that subtly (or not so subtly) tells them to shrink.

Even well-meaning phrases carry hidden messages. When we tell girls, “You’re too sensitive,” what they often hear is, “Your feelings are inconvenient.” When we say, “Be careful not to hurt anyone’s feelings,” what they internalize is, “Your needs are less important than keeping others comfortable.”

This socialization doesn’t go away in adulthood it simply evolves. Women in the workplace are told to “smile more,” “tone it down,” or “read the room.” Their assertiveness is labeled as aggression. Their ambition becomes a threat. Their boundaries are interpreted as coldness.

And all of it starts with the words we use.

Rewriting the Narrative

If we want to empower women, we have to examine how we narrate their stories and who gets centered in those narratives.

We must be willing to shift:

• From “She’s being dramatic” to “What’s behind her reaction?”
• From “She’s hard to work with” to “She’s holding people accountable.”
• From “She should have left” to “Why did he make it unsafe for her to stay?”

This shift isn’t just about accuracy it’s about justice. Because how we tell a story often becomes how that story is remembered. And how a story is remembered becomes how we treat the next woman who tells her truth.

Words as Tools of Liberation

When we’re intentional with language, it becomes a tool for empowerment, not erasure.

It’s in saying, “I believe you.”

It’s in correcting someone who says, “He lost control,” by replying, “No, he chose violence.”

It’s in the courage to interrupt the dinner table when a girl is talked over.

It’s in changing our own vocabulary from one that minimizes to one that magnifies truth.

And it’s in modeling for the next generation of girls and boys alike that the words we choose have power. Power to shape understanding. Power to challenge systems. Power to amplify voices that have been silenced for far too long.

A Final Word

Reclaiming our voice doesn’t always mean shouting louder. Sometimes it means speaking more clearly. More truthfully. More intentionally.

The revolution starts not just in grand gestures but in small sentences.

And if we want to unmute ourselves and others, we must begin by rewriting the words.