What a shame.

Boys will be boys.

She’s a drama queen.

Don’t cry over spilled milk.

Blood is thicker than water.

Idioms and common phrases fascinate me. I’m curious about those people use amongst families and friends, those from different countries and cultures, the expressions that make a language especially difficult for non-native speakers because they simply don’t translate, and the widely used sayings I’ve somehow reached adulthood without hearing or understanding until now. I enjoy trying to make sense of both their meaning and the situations in which they’re used.

Perhaps part of my interest comes from the comedic impact of my tendency to sometimes take things literally, (when small I was disappointed to find out the ‘memory lane’ was not a real place). I also enjoy the process of unpicking both personal and shared meaning with others. 

Language is one of the most direct ways we connect with one another, yet it is far from a perfect medium, not only across cultures, but between individuals of similar cultural experiences and background. Even when we share a language, it remains remarkably prone to misunderstanding.

Idioms and sayings are, I think, a perfect example of how we can unconsciously learn the ways the social world can work. We absorb them, often without question, and they can subtly position ourselves and others into particular roles or expectations. 

In therapy, I might describe this as internalising a relational idea and then acting from it on autopilot, without fully recognising where it came from or why we may feel restricted or beholden to the belief or story it portrays.

I was recently listening to this episode of the Podcast ‘What Now’, where Esther Perel and Trevor Noah reflect on the experience of living in both individualistic and collectivist cultures, and the ideas we inherit amongst other things. This left me thinking about how language is one of the obvious ways these ideas are transmitted. 

Society and history hand us words, ideas and customs, which we take in, repeat then use in our identities and relationships. Many sayings get traction almost effortlessly and even take on a life of their own.

We hear. We internalise. We respond. Then we say similar words to us and others. These stories can be passed on, sometimes becoming myths we are inspired and guided by or even ideals that are sometimes unrealistic to live up to – like the Cinderella style notions of ‘goodness’ begetting a ‘happily ever after’.

Of course some idioms, sayings and proverbs pass down wisdom. One example I heard and still say often is from Barbados: “de sea ain’t got nuh back door”. It reminds me to maintain a healthy amount of caution rather than complacency in the sea and not to assume conditions will remain consistent. 

I also think of the possible history of this saying, imagining how oppressive a vast, risky ocean may have felt surrounding an enslaved population on a small island. 

Other phrases can unintentionally distort or confuse our sense of ethics or values. An example I grew up hearing is the phrase “blood is thicker than water”– a reminder to prioritise family over friendship. 

As a child, hearing it felt ominous, like a commandment and perhaps like an accusation. No one ever explained, rather I simply inferred its meaning through context. Although I never found myself repeating it, I internalised its assumed message. When older, it contributed to a sense of guilt whenever I sought independence or tried to establish boundaries.

More recently, I discovered that the phrase’s origins are disputed. A possible early version is “the blood of the covenant is thicker than the water of the womb,” inferring chosen bonds are stronger than biological ones. Whether or not this is the original, I found it interesting that the meaning could be entirely reversed to how we use it currently.

Other phrases can seem innocuous, but imply a social code. One often used to express regret or disappointment is “what a shame.” Through my work with survivors of relational and other forms of trauma, I’ve become more aware and cautious of its use. When we carry longstanding shame or guilt, language that may unintentionally reinforce those feelings may be unhelpful. Rather than risk imposing an unintended judgement, I increasingly prefer to say directly what I actually mean.

As many people have drawn attention to, in the current climate of increased division I also find myself more curious and cautious about some of the more gendered sayings I hear as self or other descriptors. “They are or I am a drama queen” and “boys will be boys” to me are both vague and rigid. They can dismiss or collapse nuance, and reduce someone to an unhelpful stereotype, while subtly communicating behavioural and emotional expectations about ourselves and others.

“Don’t cry over spilled milk” is another phrase I’ve wondered whether I’ve misunderstood because of context or culture. I have always interpreted it as meaning there was no point becoming upset over something trivial. 

Looking into its history, however, I found it may have rather originally spoke to the loss of something genuinely valuable, at a time when wasted nourishment was more than a minor inconvenience. If so, perhaps it was intended less as a dismissal of emotion and more as a compassionate reminder that, despite the significance of the loss, dwelling on what cannot be undone serves little purpose. That feels kinder than the version I had imagined.

Often, we don’t know the etymology of the phrase we’re using, or the history it carries. While it may not always be practical or necessary to find out, perhaps this article might encourage us to sometimes pause and ask ourselves whether a phrase is the most helpful or even the most accurate way of describing what we mean, or the situation in front of us. 

Perhaps asking someone about their intended use or meaning and sharing our own interpretations and understandings of a phrase may reveal different meanings, hidden personal or cultural stories, beliefs or even misunderstandings.

Perhaps more generally, pausing may help us to consider how the message in a saying positions us and others. 

Postscript

Three more phrases that peak my curiosity and possible questions to raise beyond their common use and meaning:

“For my sins” – a nod to a less secular culture? An innocuous seeming clue to a persons sense of duty?

“Not my circus, not my monkeys” – how familiar is the person using this phrase, with blame or defending their position of non-responsibility in chaotic situations ?

“There’s no smoke without fire” – How can someone be helped with the process of making sense of their own or another person’s role in an unclear story, and of the story itself?

© 2026 Lorraine Welch. All rights reserved

Related further listening

Another episode of ‘What Now’ podcast: ‘Your language might be changing the way you think’