I wasn’t planning to write this article.

Honestly, I’ve been doing my best just to keep going lately, doing the work, showing up for my clients, taking care of my family, and putting one foot in front of the other. However, as I’ve walked through a season of personal and professional heartbreak, I’ve come to realize there’s something quietly corrosive that deserves to be talked about out loud.

Gossip.

Not the light kind. Not the harmless “did you hear she’s dating someone new?” kind. I’m talking about the kind that tears reputations apart. The kind that distorts truth, rewrites history, and feeds on people’s pain like it’s entertainment. The kind that spreads in whispers but leaves wreckage in its wake.

And here’s the truth: I’ve been on the receiving end of it lately, and yes, it has hurt. Deeply. Words that are so far from the truth have gotten back to me, and they’ve left me breathless. Things I’ve never said, feelings I’ve never held, assumptions that have taken on lives of their own. It’s painful, and at times, it’s made healing feel impossible.

But I need to say something else, too. I’ve been guilty of gossip. I’m not proud of it, but I won’t pretend otherwise. I’ve vented. I’ve shared frustration. I’ve passed along things I shouldn’t have. I’ve tried to be thoughtful, to filter what I say through care and concern, but I know I haven’t always gotten it right. None of us have.

That’s what this article is about. Not about casting blame. Not about playing the victim. But about naming something real. Something ugly. Something that affects all of us, especially as women, and that we rarely pause to confront.

Because gossip doesn’t just happen to us. It happens through us.
If we don’t get honest about that, it will continue to wound the very communities we claim to care about.

So this isn’t a rant. It’s a reckoning.
We can do better. I want to do better.
And I think it starts by telling the truth about what gossip really is and what it costs.

What Gossip Really Is (and Why It Hurts So Much)

Let’s be clear about something: gossip is not the same thing as communication.

It’s not even the same thing as venting. Or asking for support. Or confiding in a trusted friend about something painful. Those things, done thoughtfully, are healthy, even necessary.

Gossip is different.
Gossip is talking about someone when you have no intention of talking to them.
It’s sharing speculation disguised as concern.
It’s framing judgment as information.
It’s weaponizing a version of the truth to shape how others see someone, without their knowledge or consent.

And it happens fast. A raised eyebrow. A “just so you know.” A whispered warning. A hint dropped in a group chat. Suddenly, a half-truth is the whole story. And the person at the center of it has no idea what’s being said, or how to defend themselves, or why they’re being quietly frozen out.

That’s the part no one talks about, the isolation.
When you’re the target of gossip, it feels like being locked out of a room where everyone else is talking about you. People start treating you differently, but no one tells you why. It’s like standing in a storm you can’t see, only feel. You’re trying to stay upright while people behind you are questioning your character, your motives, your worth.

And worse? Most of the people participating think they’re doing nothing wrong.
They’re “just passing it along.”
They’re “just concerned.”
They “just thought you should know.”

But gossip is never just anything. It’s an erosion, quiet, steady, and devastating. It destroys trust. It poisons relationships. It turns communities into cliques and support systems into minefields. And too often, especially among women, it hides behind kindness and connection.

That’s what makes it so dangerous.

Because gossip feels like bonding, but it breeds disconnection.
It feels like power, but it costs us our integrity.
And it feels like truth, but it’s often anything but.

Why Gossip Hits Women Harder

I was raised with two brothers. My husband has eight. So trust me when I say, I’ve had a front-row seat to how men handle conflict, and how differently it plays out in women’s spaces.

Men aren’t immune to gossip. But it’s rarely the same beast.

In my experience, and in research too, men’s gossip tends to be shorter, more superficial, and less emotionally loaded. It’s often about facts, events, outcomes: who got fired, who got promoted, who won the game. It’s strategic.

Women’s gossip, on the other hand, goes deeper, and it cuts deeper.
It’s not always loud or obvious. Sometimes, it’s so subtle it doesn’t even feel like gossip at first. A side comment. A change in tone. A withheld invitation.
But the message is clear: “She’s not safe here anymore.”

This isn’t about blaming women. This is about naming a cultural reality that we’ve inherited and, in many cases, internalized.
Girls are often taught early not to be “too loud,” “too aggressive,” or “too confrontational.” We’re praised for being agreeable, easy to get along with, emotionally aware. But that same emotional intelligence, when twisted by hurt or fear, can turn relational. Indirect. Sharp.
That’s how gossip becomes a weapon disguised as empathy.

When we don’t feel empowered to express frustration directly, it leaks out sideways.
When we fear rejection, we preemptively exclude.
When we feel wronged, we seek solidarity, not resolution, by pulling others into the story.
And when we’re hurt, confused, or scared? Gossip is fast. It’s satisfying. It’s bonding.
But it’s also toxic.

Relational aggression is real.
Psychologists have studied it for decades. It’s not physical violence, but it is emotional harm: exclusion, whisper campaigns, reputation sabotage.
And studies consistently show that women are more likely than men to engage in it. Not because we’re mean or malicious by nature, but because it’s what many of us were socialized to do when we’re upset but not allowed to say so.

We don’t want to make waves, so we stir the water behind the scenes.
We don’t want to seem confrontational, so we process “privately,” to everyone but the person involved.
We want to stay liked, so we weaponize stories instead of honesty.

But here’s the truth: that kind of behavior doesn’t protect relationships. It poisons them.
It makes women distrust other women.
It makes sisterhood unsafe.
And it leaves people deeply hurt, with no chance to defend themselves, clear the air, or heal.

This is why gossip hits harder in women’s circles, because those circles are supposed to be safe.
And when they aren’t, it’s not just painful. It’s devastating.

The Psychological and Emotional Cost

We talk about gossip like it’s harmless.
Like it’s just chatter. Just venting. Just part of how people bond.

But if you’ve ever been truly on the receiving end of it, you know that’s a lie.

Gossip hurts.
Not metaphorically. Not in theory.
It hurts in the body. It hurts in the heart. It hurts in the pit of your stomach when you walk into a room and feel the shift. When your name suddenly tastes like ash in someone else’s mouth. When you realize everyone’s been forming opinions about you, without you.

It’s isolating.
It’s confusing.
It’s emotionally brutal.

Studies back this up: people who are targeted by gossip report significantly higher levels of anxiety, depression, social withdrawal, and self-doubt. It can lead to sleep disturbances, trust issues, and in extreme cases, suicidal thoughts.
It doesn’t matter if the gossip is true, false, or somewhere in between. The emotional fallout is real. Especially when you don’t even know who’s saying what, or why.

And let’s be honest: it doesn’t just hurt the target.
It corrodes the people spreading it too.
It pulls us into a loop of suspicion and comparison, of shame and superiority.
You walk away from the conversation buzzing, but not in a good way. You feel edgy. Guilty. A little bit gross.
Because deep down, most of us know when we’ve crossed a line.
We just don’t always know how to walk it back.

The emotional cost of gossip isn’t just about hurt feelings. It’s about ruptured trust, in others, and in ourselves.
When you’re surrounded by gossip, you start to question everything:
Who’s safe? Who’s genuine? Who’s saying something else the second I walk away?

It creates a culture of paranoia.
A community where connection is performative and safety is conditional.
Where support is traded for information and vulnerability becomes ammunition.

That is not harmless.
That is emotional violence.

And we need to start calling it what it is.
Not to shame each other, but to stop letting this kind of harm masquerade as “just how women are.”

We are better than this.
We deserve better than this.

Information vs. Gossip: How to Tell the Difference

Here’s where it gets tricky.

Because not all sharing is gossip.
We’re human. We process. We confide. We need each other.

And sometimes, we do need to talk about other people, to get advice, to make sense of something that hurt us, to ask for support. That’s okay. That’s healthy. But there is a difference between speaking with care and speaking carelessly. And it’s time we learn how to spot that line.

Let’s break it down.

Gossip:

• Has no intention of helping or resolving anything
• Is usually done behind someone’s back
• Feels juicy, thrilling, or self-righteous in the moment
• Relies on speculation, exaggeration, or “someone said”
• Paints the speaker as the hero or victim
• Invites judgment, not understanding
• Would feel uncomfortable if the person being discussed walked in mid-conversation

Information or Confiding:

• Has a clear purpose, seeking advice, clarity, or healing
• Is shared with someone you trust, in a respectful, private space
• Centers on your own experience, not assumptions about someone else’s
• Focuses on resolution or processing, not dramatizing
• Comes with a tone of humility, not superiority
• Often includes the awareness that the story has more sides
• Would still feel okay if the person you’re talking about eventually heard what you said

A good gut-check? Ask yourself:

• “Would I say this if they were here?”
• “Is this my story to tell?”
• “Am I trying to get support, or backup?”
• “Will this help or hurt?”

And here’s the part we don’t like to admit: sometimes we think we’re just processing, but we’re really recruiting.
Trying to build a coalition.
Trying to stack the deck so we feel justified in our anger or hurt.

That’s human. It’s also dangerous.

Because when truth becomes weaponized for validation instead of connection, we’ve already slipped into gossip, even if we told ourselves we were just “being honest.”

Let me be clear: you can speak your truth without tearing someone else down.
You can seek support without needing to demonize the other party.
You can feel your pain without passing it around like currency.

It takes more emotional discipline.
It takes maturity.
But if we want our relationships, and our communities, to feel safe and real and grounded in love, this is the line we have to learn to walk.

How to Shut It Down Without Starting a War

By now, most of us are probably replaying some conversations in our head.
The ones we shouldn’t have been part of.
The ones we wish we’d spoken up in, but didn’t.
The ones where we knew it had crossed a line, and we just let it ride.

Stopping gossip isn’t easy.
Especially when it’s wrapped in friendship. Or “venting.” Or a tight-knit community where calling someone out feels like breaking an unspoken pact.
But here’s the truth: if we don’t interrupt gossip, we’re complicit in it. Even if we didn’t start it. Even if we just sat there.

So let’s talk about what it actually looks like to shut it down, without blowing things up.

1. Change the subject. Gracefully and firmly.

Sometimes the simplest move is the most effective.
“Oh wow, hey, did y’all see that thing on the news this morning?”
“Ugh, I’m overloaded, mind if we shift gears?”
Casual, natural, non-confrontational, but it sends the signal: I’m not here for this.

2. Name the discomfort.

If you have the relationship and the courage, say it.
“I’m not comfortable talking about her like this when she’s not here.”
“That feels more like gossip than support.”
“I don’t think it’s fair to make assumptions about that.”

It might feel awkward. That’s okay.
Truth often does.

3. Ask: “What’s your goal here?”

This one is subtle but powerful.
When someone’s trashing someone else, pause and say,
“What’s your hope in sharing this?”
That one question can deflate a gossip bomb in seconds, because most people don’t have an answer that doesn’t sound petty.

4. Redirect with compassion.

Sometimes gossip comes from pain. From people who feel hurt, betrayed, or afraid. You can acknowledge that without encouraging the narrative.
“I hear that you’re upset. Maybe you need to talk to her directly?”
or
“Sounds like a tough situation. I hope y’all can work it out.”

It shows empathy, but steers things out of the gutter.

5. Excuse yourself. Literally.

If it gets too toxic, walk away.
You don’t owe anyone an audience.
You don’t have to participate to keep the peace.
You can love people and still remove yourself from conversations that feel wrong.

6. Lead by example.

The best way to break gossip culture is to be un-gossipable.
Protect people’s dignity.
Speak kindly even when you’re hurt.
Keep private things private.
And when someone brings you gossip? Don’t take the bait.

Word gets around. So does integrity.

The truth is, stopping gossip will cost you something.
It might cost you a moment of belonging.
It might cost you approval.
It might make someone roll their eyes or call you “too sensitive” or “holier-than-thou.”

Let them.

Because what it won’t cost you is your self-respect.
It will earn you trust, peace, and freedom from the emotional hangover that always follows a whisper campaign.

Final Thoughts: We Deserve Better Than This

Let me say this as clearly as I can: I am tired of the drama.

I am tired of the whispered conversations.
I am tired of the assumptions, the half-truths, the damage that hides behind “I just thought you should know.”
I’m especially tired of seeing women—strong, compassionate, brilliant women—tear each other down in the name of “venting.”

This article was hard to write.
Not just because it’s personal, but because it’s vulnerable.
Because I know that some people reading it have probably heard rumors about me, especially related to the recent dissolution of my business partnership.

So let me speak directly, from my heart:
I’m not going to go into details, speculate, or defend. But I will say this: My former business partner is a caring, loving woman. She is a deeply committed midwife and a great mother. I have recommended her to clients in the past and will continue to do so when appropriate.
We simply had fundamental disagreements about how we believed our business should be run. That’s it. That’s the whole story!
If you’ve heard otherwise or heard I said something cruel, unprofessional, or vindictive, I need you to know: that is not the truth. And I’m asking you, gently but firmly, not to carry that rumor forward.

Gossip and rumors about me have also been getting back to me.  Again, I will not go into specifics or even dignify the ridiculous things I have heard about me.  Those who know me know they are not true.  If you have questions, ask me.  I am an open book, with no secrets and no hidden agendas. On this blog, I have been uber transparent with my thoughts and opinions about autonomy and evidence-based health care. If you want to know how I practice and my health care standards, just read my articles; it is all there for everyone to see.

My clients come first, and always will…

I can’t control what others say. But I can control what I stand for.
And I want to stand for something better than this.
Better than division.
Better than whispers.
Better than emotional shrapnel dressed up as connection.

This piece wasn’t written to call anyone out. It was written to call us up.
To name what so many of us have been feeling.
To shine a light on what we’ve tolerated for too long.
And to remind all of us, myself included, that we deserve communities where we can feel safe, even when we’re struggling.

I don’t know who needs to hear this today, but I’ll say it anyway:

You are not the worst thing someone said about you.
You are not the whisper that followed you into a room.
You are not the villain in someone else’s pain-fueled narrative.

And you are not alone.

Let’s choose curiosity over assumption.
Integrity over attention.
Healing over hurt.
Let’s be the kind of women who can walk through conflict without lighting fires in each other’s names.

Because we can be better.
We are better.
And we deserve better than this.

—Stay Strong! Jaelin—

Additional Reading

If this article spoke to you, here are a few more pieces that continue the conversation around trust, healing, and the culture we build with our words:

• The Toxicity of Gossip – Psychology Today
• Rumors, Gossip, and Your Health – WebMD
• Gossip: The Road to Ruin by Amir Fathizadeh
• Keep It Shut: What to Say, How to Say It, and When to Say Nothing at All by Karen Ehman
  Note: Full disclosure: SHEis Online earns a small (very small) commission on any links in the article that take you to Amazon.

About the Author:

Dr. Jaelin Stickels, DPN, CNM, APRN, is a deeply passionate and highly skilled Certified Nurse Midwife, Women’s Health Nurse Practitioner, and the owner of Holistic Heritage Homebirth in Houston, Texas. With over a decade of midwife experience, Jaelin has had the privilege of helping several hundred (over 700 as of 2024…) women welcome their babies into the world. In addition to her advanced practice licensure training, she has additional advanced training in twin and breech births, making her one of only a few with these skills in her area.  Jaelin approaches every birth with expertise, compassion, and a deep respect for the birthing process.

Jaelin’s journey into midwifery began with a profound love for supporting women through the incredible experience of pregnancy, labor, and postpartum. Since 2010, she has been dedicated to walking alongside families during these transformative moments, offering guidance, support, and care tailored to each individual’s unique needs. She is a big believer in informed consent and ensures clients are given the best evidence-based information to make the best decisions for themselves and their families.

Married to her high school sweetheart Ted (aka Chef Ted) since 1984, Jaelin is the proud mother of three grown children and the delighted grandmother of one amazing granddaughter. When she’s not assisting in births, Jaelin finds joy in going to the movies with her husband, quilting, and cherishing time with her family. Known by the other midwives in her practice (Holistic Heritage Homebirth) affectionately as the “Birth Hog,” she brings an unmatched dedication and enthusiasm to her work—no one loves birth quite like she does.

Read Jaelin’s Bio

Find out more about Jaelin’s Homebirth Practice (Holistic Heritage Homebirth) in Houston, TX