How Hating the Word ‘Like’ Hurts Young Women

“You should really stop saying ‘like’ so much.”

This is something I’ve heard countless times. I’ve heard it from professors who begin the semester with a proclamation of how the word “like” is their ultimate pet peeve. I’ve heard it again from my own family, some of whom have been known to stop me mid-sentence to point out my tendency to use the word “like.”

Many people don’t like “like,” and I understand the perspective. By pointing it out to people who use the word frequently, they think they are helping them steer clear of sounding unprofessional at best, and at worst, dumb.

But despite their disdain, I love the word “like.”

Having been criticized throughout my adolescence for using it, I’ve done my fair share of research about what the word “like” means. The word didn’t drum up public attention as a “filler” word until its regular use by the Beat Generation of the 1950s — largely as an expression of wonderment. In the 1980s, the word resurfaced again as part of “valley girl” talk — a speech pattern often associated with materialistic and superficial teen girls (think the 1995 film Clueless).

Today, “like” is criticized for its use as an unnecessary “filler” word. On the surface, the word is perceived as a sign of hesitation or stupidity, largely because of its more recent connection to the valley girl stereotype. As a result, young women especially are mocked for using“‘like.”

Many studies have found that “filler words” such as “like” are used more by young women than any other group of people. But this research also shows that instead of a sign of airheadedness, using the word “like” often signals that the speaker is being more thoughtful and considerate in their speech. “Like” is a signal of emotional nuance.

This makes sense to me because, as women, it really matters what we say and how we say it.

In academic seminars, women are two and half times less likely to ask questions than men are. In general, men interrupt women 33% more often than they interrupt other men.

So when women do speak, it feels crucial that what we say is smart, accurate, and insightful. And using the word “like” is a tool that allows us to do just that by carefully considering our prose and adapting our language to navigate specific social contexts.

But if the first piece of feedback women receive after speaking up is criticism over how we talk, not even feedback about the quality of our contribution, what comes next? A subsequent thought may be (and I know this, having thought it myself): Was it even worth talking at all?

When I was 9, people asked me to talk all the time. I had just moved to California from the Cotswolds in England, and my classmates were fascinated by the way I pronounced things. On my first day of fourth grade, I must have said the word “water” over 50 times. The attention was on me, and I felt cool. And over the next two years, I thrived: a four square champion, writer for the student newspaper, and fraction expert.

By 13, I had grown out of my proclivity for talking “posh,” and it seemed like people weren’t as interested in what I had to say anymore. I became a reserved girl who found it difficult to raise her hand in class. And when I did, I would rehearse exactly what I wanted to say to make sure it came out “just right” — whatever that means. But despite the intense mental hoops I would jump through to speak up, to the bemusement of my teachers, a “like” would slip out often.

College wasn’t much different. Classrooms weren’t welcoming, and in an environment where blurting out answers aloud at a whim was encouraged, I felt smothered by more assertive and loud — *cough* — male voices. The difference was that now, as a young woman, I was very painfully aware of what was happening. I knew my opinion was important — so why wasn’t I sharing it?

At this point, I made a concerted effort to speak out, raising my hand more and engaging with professors. But no matter my confidence, I couldn’t help but lean on my old friend, the “like,” to guide me through my thoughts. Sure, I was still criticized for it, but honestly, I stopped caring. If using “like” is what I need to do to get my voice out there, what is so wrong with that?

To this day, my use of the word “like” remains steady. But the one thing that has changed from youth to now is the confidence I have developed in my own voice.

Believing that what I had to say was worth hearing, and actively speaking it out, was a conscious choice I made, something that took practice and time to cement into my daily routine.

If using the word “like” actually reflected poor self-belief and inaptitude, as its opponents proclaim it does, I would have gotten rid of it through this process. But reflecting on conversations I’ve had just this past week, it’s clear they’re like, pretty wrong.

Instead, “like” symbolizes how young women, like myself, have risen above and beyond what they’ve been told they can be: quiet. If anything, choosing to speak despite the criticism is an act of empowerment.

So to all the young women out there, speak your mind, “likes” and all.

To everyone else, please just listen.