You Do Not Need to Fix What Cannot Be Fixed
When someone is suffering, our instinct is often to try to take their pain away. If they fall, we help them up. If they are ill, we look for medicine. If they have a problem, we search for a solution. When we see someone in sorrow, we naturally want to lift their spirits and remind them that beauty still exists in the world.
Grief, however, is different. There is nothing to fix. It is not an illness from which someone simply recovers one day. A person they loved has died. Their relationship, their everyday life and their understanding of the world have changed. However much we may wish otherwise, there are no words that can reverse what has happened or make it feel less difficult.
Perhaps that is why it matters so much to recognise and honour the true weight of another person’s loss—as well as our own. In this Lasting Echo article, we look at some of the phrases best avoided when speaking to someone who is grieving and suggest gentler, more respectful alternatives.
“It Will Pass”
The words “it will pass” are usually well meant, yet they can be painful to hear. They may suggest that grief is an unpleasant but temporary state that must eventually be brought to an end, overcome or left behind—as though the goal were for the pain simply to disappear.
The death of someone we love is not an illness that eventually goes away. Grief changes and transforms. There may be periods when it becomes easier to live alongside it, and moments when the same pain rises again with overwhelming force.
A person does not necessarily “get over” a loss by leaving what happened behind. More often, they gradually learn to live with the absence and find their own way through a changed life. We may therefore offer far more by resisting the urge to determine the pace of someone else’s “recovery” and allowing them to grieve in their own time.
“You don’t have to feel better right now.”
“Time Heals Everything”
“Time heals everything” is another phrase intended to reassure, but grief is far more complex than that. Grief has no expiry date, and time alone does not resolve a loss. What time may offer is space: space in which someone can slowly learn how to live with what has happened.
For this to be possible, neither the grieving person nor those around them need to flee from the pain at all costs. There must be room to experience and process the emotions that accompany loss. Grief work does not mean remaining in pain constantly. It means returning from time to time to what has happened: speaking about it, remembering, crying, searching for our place in a changed life and gradually discovering how we can continue living with the absence.
In this way, loss may retain a place in our lives without overwhelming everything else. If grief is persistently suppressed or avoided, however, the pain does not necessarily disappear simply because time has passed or because it remains unspoken. It may return later in another form.
This is why grief should not be given a deadline. There is no point by which someone “should” be all right. Grief is a process of adaptation through which a person slowly discovers how life can continue while the loss is still allowed to have its place.
“You don’t need to rush. I won’t hurry you.”
“Pull Yourself Together”
This may be one of the most harmful things anyone can say to someone who is grieving.
A grieving person should not have to pull themselves together simply to make other people feel more comfortable. They may cry, and may temporarily find it difficult to concentrate at work, or be unable to work at all. They may forget things. They may laugh one moment and fall apart the next.
None of this necessarily means that they are “grieving badly” or failing to cope.
Instead, give them permission to feel:
“You don’t have to be strong with me.”
“You can be exactly as you are right now.”
“It’s all right if you don’t know what to do with this yet.”
“They Had Such a Wonderful, Long Life”
A long life can indeed be a gift, but that does not make the absence any smaller. When someone loses their ninety-year-old mother, they have still lost their mother.
Grief is not a mathematical equation. It is not reduced by half because the person who died was elderly. A long life may mean a lifetime of shared experiences and memories, and a relationship deepened over many years. The weight of the loss may be just as great. The deeper the love between two people, the more fathomless the sorrow of losing one of them may feel.
Phrases like this often view the story from the perspective of the person trying to offer comfort, while the grieving person is standing on the side of absence. We do not necessarily need to emphasise what was “good” about the circumstances. They may not be able to find anything good in them right now.
Try instead:
“I can’t imagine what it must be like without them.”
“I know how much they meant to you.”
“At Least…”
We should be especially careful with sentences that begin with “at least”.
A grieving person does not need to consider whether their loss could have been even more painful. Nor do they need to feel grateful for whatever “at least” remains beside the tragedy. Pain is still pain, even if events might have unfolded differently.
Our role is not to put the loss into perspective, but to acknowledge that it is profoundly difficult and that the grieving person has every right to feel whatever they feel.
The same applies when someone has died after a serious illness:
“At least they didn’t suffer for long.”
“At least they’re no longer in pain.”
“At least their suffering is over.”
“At least you had time to say goodbye.”
“At least you have another child.”
“At least you’re still young.”
Each of these phrases unintentionally places the loss in competition with something else. It is as though we are saying: yes, this is terrible—but look at why it is not quite as terrible as it could have been. A grieving person should never have to prove that their loss is painful enough to deserve compassion.
“I Know How You Feel”
Even if we have experienced a similar loss, we may not truly know how another person feels. We did not lose the same person, nor did we share the same relationship. The history, circumstances, personalities and everything that came before are different.
Our own experience can easily take up the space that belongs to the other person’s story.
Instead of saying:
“I know how you feel,”
we might say:
“I’ve experienced loss too, but I know your story is uniquely yours. If you would like to talk about it, I’m here to listen.”
This does not draw the conversation back towards us, but it gently returns it to the person who is grieving.
“Everything Happens for a Reason”
For some people, this belief may offer genuine comfort. In the immediate aftermath of a loss, however, it can sound painfully hollow. What “reason” could explain why the person they loved had to die?
In the earliest stages of grief, a person may not need meaning or an explanation. If there is meaning to be found, they will need to arrive at it in their own way and in their own time.
We may, of course, gently mention what helped us—whether it was a spiritual belief, a personal insight or a practice that offered support. But this should be shared with great sensitivity and patience, without creating the expectation that the grieving person must follow the same path that helped us in a different situation.
Sometimes what they need most is simply for someone to acknowledge:
“This is terribly unfair.”
“This is an immense loss. I am so deeply sorry.”
We do not need to explain what cannot be explained.
“You Have to Be Strong—for Your Family”
A grieving person in certain life situations such as being a sole breadwinner in the family, or a surviving parent of a minor may have to be strong for the sake of others, however it is definitely not our role to remind them of this fact.
Often, what helps most is finally having someone in whose presence they do not need to be strong, and not have to pull themselves together – unlike other situations where they have to reassure everyone else or pretend that everything is all right.
A simple sentence may offer more comfort than any motivational thought:
“I feel this loss is immense. You don’t have to be strong with me.”
Do Not Predict How Their Grief Will Unfold
It is best not to predict the course another person’s grief will take.
“The first year will be the worst.”
“The second year is when it becomes really difficult.”
“It will all come back at Christmas.”
“You’re still in shock—the hardest part will come later.”
“One day, you’ll reach the point when you can finally let go.”
Perhaps this is how it will unfold—but perhaps it will be entirely different.
Grief does not follow a timetable, and there is no universal timeline that applies to everyone. We cannot know in advance when it will feel more difficult, when it will feel lighter or even what “better” will eventually look like for that person.
Perhaps the most important thing is not to tell someone what they should feel or when they should feel it, but to leave them the freedom to grieve in whatever way they can and need to.
What If We Truly Do Not Know What to Say?
One of the most important things we can admit is that no one always knows the right words.
We do not need to be perfect. We do not have to discover the one sentence that will ease another person’s pain. We can simply say:
“I can’t find the words.”
“I don’t know what to say.”
“I am so sorry.”
“I wish I could ease even a little of your pain.”
Or simply:
“I’m here.”
“I know nothing feels all right at the moment. I’m staying here with you.”
And then stay.
Because often, what matters most is not whether we found the perfect words. It is that we are not frightened away by another person’s pain; that we do not rush to fix it or make it disappear, but remain beside them—even when there are no words yet, or when words are no longer enough.
Important noteThe content on this website is intended to inform and support. It is not a substitute for professional help from a psychologist, psychiatrist or psychotherapist, nor for medical treatment when needed.
If you feel that the pain of loss has become too difficult to carry alone, please do not remain isolated. Share what you are feeling with someone you trust, and do not hesitate to seek professional support. Asking for help is not a sign of weakness, but an important step towards healing.
