It’s a new week on the internet, and that means there’s probably at least one buzzy new phrase floating around. Weaponized incompetence caught on a few years ago as a term to describe that state of intentional idiocy (“I just don’t know how to do it the way you like it!”) about simple household tasks that lets one partner avoid doing their share of the domestic labor. If you do a little Googling, you might come across the term “weaponized anxiety” on forums like Reddit. What is weaponized anxiety, and is it a real thing?
As someone diagnosed with generalized anxiety disorder, I’ve definitely had the label used against me by friends and family members. I always feared my diagnosis might prevent me from getting promotions at work or cause colleagues to see me as fragile or incapable. So at first, the idea that any of us might be purposely wielding our anxiety to keep our partners in line felt pretty offensive.
But just like abusive people use “setting boundaries” to control others’ behavior, and therapy speak has become a widespread way for crummy people to manipulate those around them, it’s certainly possible for someone to claim their anxiety is the reason they simply can’t be held accountable. Relationship experts say it’s important to separate those folks from the people who actually have anxiety, and who may be letting it run too much of their relationship, albeit unintentionally.
Is weaponized anxiety real?
Experts are split on whether we should use the term weaponized anxiety. While they may see an anxiety (or similar diagnosis) wielded poorly within a relationship, it’s rarely (if ever) intentional, they say.
“I would not use the word ‘weaponize’ because that implies intent that may not be there. I do see situations where a partner’s real anxiety can become a veto power in the relationship. The other person starts accommodating more and more, taking things over, avoiding topics, or changing plans to keep the anxiety down,” says Terri Cole, licensed psychologist and author of the forthcoming book, Father Wound. “The anxiety may be real, but that doesn’t mean it should be running the family.”
“As a couples therapist, I have watched clients unconsciously use their diagnoses as a way to protect themselves and manage the relationship,” says licensed marriage and family therapist Melissa Kester. “I have watched it happen with anxiety, trauma, and other diagnoses. The bind is that their diagnosis is real, and that real distress is used to control a conversation or avoid accountability, with relationally harmful consequences.”
Among her own clients, Kester has noticed the partner with anxiety has usually adopted the narrative that their diagnosis is more important than their partner’s needs, and their partner should do whatever they can to accommodate them. This isn’t a consciously malicious thought process, but a dynamic that does tend to take hold over time.
“While we cannot excuse our behavior just because of our diagnosis, we can acknowledge that something is harder or that we are more vulnerable to a particular behavior. Both partners still need equal and warm regard,” she says.
If the anxious partner grew up in a family “where being distressed brought care, made something difficult go away, or stopped a hard conversation,” they “may have learned that anxiety changes how others treat you,” Cole explains. “That can follow you into adult relationships without you ever consciously choosing it. But unconscious doesn’t mean harmless. The impact on the other person can still be very real.”
What does this look like in relationships?
Anxiety can start to overlap with weaponized incompetence when it prevents one partner from doing certain tasks — leaving the other person in charge of completing them. “Anxiety can become the explanation for why a task keeps getting handed to the other partner. ‘You know those calls make me anxious,’ or ‘I get too overwhelmed by the school stuff.’ Over time, the other person ends up carrying that task all the time, and questioning the arrangement can feel like you’re criticizing the other for having anxiety,” says Cole.
“One of the most common ways I have seen weaponized anxiety show up is in controlling how a conversation goes,” says Kester. “‘You’re causing me anxiety with this conversation. I need to go.’ Or, ‘You triggered my trauma by doing X.’ These statements can express real distress. The relational concern is what happens next. Eventually, the partner providing support is left in a terrible bind: provide care and neglect yourself, or speak up and leave your partner feeling unloved. This is a no-win situation.”
How can you address weaponized anxiety with your partner?
Your partner’s anxiety can be real and is totally valid, and it doesn’t deserve to be the only decision-maker in your relationship, Cole says.
“Pick a calm moment, not the middle of an anxiety spiral, and talk about the pattern rather than diagnosing the person. You might say, ‘I love you, and I know this is genuinely hard for you. I’ve also noticed that I’ve taken over a lot of the things that make you anxious, and I’m feeling depleted. I need us to find another way.’ Then get specific about one thing you want to change. Supporting someone with anxiety is loving. Absorbing their anxiety, managing their emotional life, or shrinking your own life to manage their reactions is something different and, over time, can take a toll on the connection.”
If reading this made you realize you might be the one unintentionally wielding your anxieties this way, don’t panic or be too hard on yourself.
“As someone with a trauma background and chronic illness, I have been vulnerable to this myself,” says Kester. “For that reason, I had to learn to be mindful of how I tend to the relationship while acknowledging my own experiences.”
If you find yourself getting anxious during hard conversations, pay attention to when your body needs a break, Kester says. Feeling increasingly angry, ready to cry, or shaky can mean you’re “losing your center,” and serve as a sign that you need a time out. Don’t blame or shame your partner; just state that you need a moment, and how much time until you return to the topic at hand.
“I’m noticing I’m feeling anxious; I need a 20-minute timeout,” says Kester. “During the break, take time for a personal check-in. Here are questions I ask my clients to consider: What is happening inside you, and how are you responding to your partner? What do you need, and how can you communicate it with equal and warm regard? What might your partner need you to hear? Returning is part of the timeout. If you need more time, check in and agree on another time to reconnect so the other person isn’t left waiting indefinitely and their concern isn’t lost.”
