The Toxic Person Narrative: Stigma, Exclusion, and Consequences

- Guest author
Last update 02 Jun 2025
Reading time 8 mins

In recent years social media and popular advice have championed the idea of “cutting off” toxic people for the sake of one’s mental health or self-care. Phrases like “protect your peace” abound, and terms such as “toxic,” “red flag,” or “narcissist” are used as shorthand for a person to be avoided at all costs[1]. Online posts and TikTok clips encourage unfriending or blocking anyone who causes even minor discomfort. Some surveys reflect this mindset: a YouGov poll found that over one-quarter of Americans are now estranged from an immediate family member[1]. In this climate, advice on “how to cut a toxic person out of your life” is ubiquitous[1]. There are unquestioned narratives framing severing ties as noble self-love and conflict as inherently toxic.

It is crucial to clarify that this article does not dispute the importance of establishing boundaries in cases of genuine abuse, manipulation, or ongoing harm, where cutting ties may be a necessary act of survival. However, the cultural trend under critique here often conflates those urgent cases with everyday interpersonal friction—the kind of conflict that, while uncomfortable, could be navigated through conversation, empathy, or support. By flattening these nuances, the popular “toxic person” narrative risks overgeneralizing and encouraging withdrawal even from relationships that are difficult but repairable.

The appeal of this trend is not accidental. In a world marked by economic precarity, shrinking support systems, and rising levels of emotional exhaustion, it is understandable that many seek clear, assertive rules to preserve their energy. The influence of therapeutic language in online culture, the viral appeal of influencer psychology, and a digital environment that rewards polarization and personal branding have further accelerated this mindset. Self-protection has become a commodified moral imperative—sometimes at the expense of reflection, repair, or compassion.

Academic Critiques of “Toxic Friendship” Discourse

Scholars have begun to critique this trend. Lahad and van Hooff (2023) analyze how advice about “toxic friends” relies on oversimplified dichotomies - categorizing people as either good or toxic friends[2]. They argue that this online discourse conflates therapeutic self-care with neoliberal individualism: the “toxic friend” is constructed to justify self-governance and protection of one’s own needs[2]. In practice, much of this advice acknowledges friendship’s value but offers “very little encouragement to ‘work’ on these relationships.” Instead, it promotes a “reductive, disposable approach to friendship ties” that ignores people’s complex situations and struggles[2]. In short, scholars warn that labeling difficult friendships as “toxic” encourages a quick discard mentality rather than empathy or dialogue.

Similarly, sociologists note that the so-called “toxic friendship formula” treats friendship unlike any other relationship. Van Hooff points out that social media has encouraged people to judge friends on convenience, so that even a temporarily struggling friend (e.g. depressed or broke) might be branded _“toxic”[1]. This research suggests we have narrow, individualistic definitions of friendship, where any conflict or neediness is seen as unacceptable[1]. One critique asks: if a friend can’t join your vacation, must they be toxic? Such judgments unfairly exclude vulnerable people.

Media & Therapeutic Framing: Boundaries and Self-Care

Popular media and self-help advice often frame cutting ties in positive language like “boundaries” and “self-care.” By declaring “Protect your mental health,” people feel empowered to cast others out. For example, psychologist Joshua Coleman observes that labeling someone “bad for your mental health” becomes an easy permission to cut them loose[1]. This self-protective ethos has become a kind of moral framework for friendships. In practice, however, many experts argue this is an overcorrection. Severing ties at the first sign of trouble may avoid short-term conflict but denies individuals and relationships a chance to grow or heal[1].

Therapists caution that the language of boundaries can be weaponized. Insider advice notes that people are “flaking on their friends and calling it a boundary” - even ignoring family obligations - as a form of self-preservation[1]. Rather than learning conflict-resolution, some simply block or ghost anyone who displeases them. As therapist Israa Nasir puts it, many are using “boundary” talk to justify cutting people out entirely[1]. In effect, the rhetoric of self-care is sometimes a cover for selfish avoidance.

A recent Psychology Today column echoes this concern. It warns that online culture increasingly treats “cutting people off” as the only moral solution to every conflict[3]. This mindset can actually produce anxiety and shame (people worry they’re cruel or enabling depending on their choice). The author, Michael DePass, observes that staying in or leaving a relationship is rarely discussed in nuanced terms; instead, some cling to kindness as “selfish” and cut off others to avoid discomfort. He confesses that his own reason for tolerating a difficult friend was in truth “selfish because I couldn’t handle conflict or much discomfort.” In other words, he stayed in a relationship to feel safe and avoid pain - motives often hidden behind moral posturing[3].

Impact on Labeled Individuals: Stigma and Isolation

The trend of quickly shunning “toxic” people has serious consequences for those who get labeled - especially already vulnerable individuals. Empirical studies show that stigma and rejection trigger loneliness and psychological harm. For instance, interviews with young people who have depression found that being misunderstood or judged by others (friends, family, peers) deepened their loneliness and isolation[4]. Participants reported discrimination and lack of support, which “resulted in increased feelings of loneliness and social isolation and reduced the quality and quantity of relationships”[4]. In effect, the stigma around mental illness can create a vicious cycle: people withdraw as others withdraw from them.

Neurodivergent and disabled individuals face similar dynamics. A systematic review of autistic adults found that negative social experiences and a lack of understanding or acceptance were strongly linked to loneliness[5]. Autistic adults cited factors like discrimination, sensory overload, and failed attempts to fit in as driving chronic loneliness[5]. Worryingly, loneliness in this group correlates with higher anxiety, depression, and even suicidal thoughts[5]. In other words, exclusion risks not just social pain but severe mental health consequences for people on the spectrum. One writer in the autistic community notes that even well-intentioned “toxic positivity” can sideline those with greater support needs, focusing only on easily celebrated success stories[6].

More broadly, social science finds that ostracism is profoundly harmful. Chronic isolation is linked to depression, cognitive decline, weakened immune function, and cardiovascular disease. One meta-analysis concluded that loneliness and social isolation raise mortality risk even more than obesity[7]. Another review notes that feelings of disconnection “impair executive functioning, sleep, and mental and physical well-being,” contributing to higher morbidity[8]. In short, loneliness can be truly toxic to health[7,8].

Finally, labeling someone as inherently “toxic” can become a self-fulfilling prophecy. Social psychologists observe that when we expect hostile or negative behavior, we unconsciously treat the person with suspicion or coldness. In turn this elicits defensive or angry reactions from them, which then seem to confirm our bias[9]. Thus a single label can provoke the very behaviors it describes, entrenching conflict. Combined with stigma and isolation, this means those branded “toxic” - often people who are struggling or different - may find themselves trapped in worsening social and emotional pain.

Discussion

In sum, critics argue that the “cut people off” culture - though framed in self-care rhetoric - promotes exclusion rather than understanding. Experts urge caution: conflicts are normal in relationships, and dismissing people at the first sign of trouble can undermine growth and trust[1]. Moreover, the language of boundaries and protection can mask self-centered motives[3], leaving those on the margins even more isolated and stigmatized. As psychologists note, once labeled and cut off, individuals lose opportunities for support and may spiral into loneliness that has real psychological and health costs[4,7].

Going forward, scholars suggest a more balanced approach. Instead of viewing relationships as easily disposable, it may be healthier to recognize that all friendships and relationships have friction[1]. Addressing conflict through communication - when safe and possible - can prevent the blanket isolation that the “toxic friend” narrative encourages. In particular, being mindful of how we use powerful labels and checking our own motivations may prevent the unjust ostracism of people who are truly vulnerable.

References

Data protection policy

Dipl.-Ing. Thomas Spielauer, Wien (webcomplains389t48957@tspi.at)

This webpage is also available via TOR at http://rh6v563nt2dnxd5h2vhhqkudmyvjaevgiv77c62xflas52d5omtkxuid.onion/

Valid HTML 4.01 Strict Powered by FreeBSD IPv6 support