Are There Really “Toxic” People?

The word toxic seems to have become part of everyday language.

We hear people say, “She’s toxic.” “He’s a toxic person.” “I had to cut them out of my life because they were toxic.”

Sometimes, I wonder whether we have overused this word and have become a little too comfortable with it. Not because difficult relationships don't exist. They absolutely do.

People can hurt us. They can manipulate, criticise, control, disrespect, betray or repeatedly cross our boundaries. Some relationships can leave us feeling drained, anxious, confused or diminished. But I don't believe a person is inherently toxic.

I believe there is a difference between saying, “This person's behaviour is harmful to me,” and saying, “This person is toxic.”

One describes an experience. The other becomes a label. And spiritually, I find that distinction important. We are all far more complicated than the worst thing we have ever done.

Every person carries their own history, their own wounds, fears, conditioning and experiences. Sometimes people behave from places within themselves that they haven't yet understood or healed. That doesn't make harmful behaviour acceptable, and it doesn't mean we should tolerate it.

But perhaps it means we don't have to turn the person into the behaviour. Someone can be behaving in a way that is unhealthy without being an inherently unhealthy soul. Someone can be deeply wounded and, as a result, wound another person. Someone can be unaware of the impact they are having. And sometimes, someone may simply not be capable of giving us the kind of relationship we need.

None of this means we have to stay. Boundaries are important. Walking away can be important. Protecting your peace can be important. There are times when creating distance from someone is the healthiest thing we can do for ourselves. We don't need to remain in a relationship that continually causes us pain simply because we are trying to understand the other person's wounds.

Compassion does not require us to tolerate behaviour that hurts us. And forgiveness does not require access. But perhaps we can create a boundary without creating a label. Instead of saying, “That person is toxic,” perhaps we could say:

“That relationship wasn't healthy for me.”

“I didn't feel respected in that relationship.”

“Their behaviour crossed a boundary for me.”

“I needed to step away because the relationship was affecting my wellbeing.”

There is something very different about these statements. They bring us back to our own experience. And perhaps that is where some of our healing begins. When we label someone as toxic, our attention can become completely focused on them, what they did, why they did it, how terrible they are and whether they will ever change.

But when we ask, “What did this relationship bring up in me?”, something deeper can happen.

Maybe it showed us where we weren't speaking up.

Maybe it revealed a boundary we didn't know we needed. Maybe it brought an old wound to the surface. Maybe it taught us that love doesn't mean abandoning ourselves. Maybe it helped us recognise what we will no longer accept.

Sometimes the people who challenge us the most can unknowingly illuminate parts of ourselves that were asking to be seen. That doesn't make their behaviour right. It simply means that our healing doesn't have to depend on judging them.

From a spiritual perspective, I believe we are all works in progress. Some people are further along in their awareness than others. Some are carrying pain they have never faced. Some are learning. Some are resisting their own growth. And some people may never change.

That is their journey. Our journey is to decide what we allow into ours. We can choose distance without hatred. We can choose boundaries without cruelty. We can choose peace without needing someone else to be the villain.

And perhaps most importantly, we can choose to stop defining ourselves by what another person did to us. You don't have to call someone toxic to acknowledge that they hurt you. You don't have to understand someone completely before deciding that a relationship isn't right for you. And you don't have to carry anger forever in order to prove that what happened mattered.

Sometimes healing is simply recognising: “What happened wasn't okay. I deserved better. I have learned from it. And now I choose to move forward.”

Perhaps there aren't toxic people. Perhaps there are wounded people, unaware people, hurting people, people making unhealthy choices, and people whose paths simply no longer belong alongside ours.

And perhaps we can honour our own boundaries while still remembering the humanity of the person we are leaving behind. Because healing doesn't always require us to decide who was good and who was bad. Sometimes, healing is simply choosing peace.