Supportive Things People Say, THAT I HATE.

If you’ve been with me from the start of my blog adventure, you know that the last six months have really challenged me and sent me down a path I wasn’t expecting to be on. It’s still not my favorite road, but I’m here, and I’m doing the best I can. Through this season of my life, I have become all too familiar with grief, and am learning that welcoming the feeling and the experiences with grief is the only way I am going to get through the season better than I was before I entered it.

I have had an overwhelming amount of support from family, old and new friends, and coworkers and colleagues through out the last six months. I have learned what I need from people, and am working on not being afraid to tell people what I need if they are offering their support. Sometime’s people with the best intentions and the biggest hearts have tried to offer their support and condolences, but it hasn’t been all that helpful. I actually have found myself getting irritated at what people have said, even when I know with my heart that their intention was to be there for me. The three biggest phrases that are meant to use as support that get my blood boiling are “You’re not the only one going through this. You are not alone,” “I’m sorry for your loss,” and “You are strong. You will move on.” Let me explain why these rattle my bones.

1. “You’re not the only one going through this. You are not alone.” In my case, the “this” is heart break. I am fully aware that this saying is meant to normalize the struggle I am experiencing. It is meant to comfort me knowing that I am not alone in the experience, and that there are others out there who have experienced the same thing and survived. I know that I am not alone. I could list many, many people that I could turn to, to help get through the grief I am experiencing. I also know that everyone in the world has probably experienced heart break, and they’ve survived. However, saying that while someone is in the center of their grief, actively living it and experiencing it day in and day out, is not validating. That shit sucks. The end, or change, of a relationship sucks. Feelings of regret, worries that you’ve been replaced, the wonder of what you did wrong, wishing that things were different, hearing a song on the radio and not being able to listen to it without sobbing, looking at old pictures and remembering good times, is not easy. I don’t care how many people have experienced heart break and have survived it. When I feel like my world is crashing down, let me feel that. I want to feel that. I need to feel that if I am ever going break this and be okay in any other relationship. “Even if somebody has it much worse, that doesn’t really change the fact that you have what you have.” I still have what I have. Don’t take it away from me by {accidentally} invalidating me and trying to make heart break normal. I don’t need to feel badly about how I feel because other people “have it worse” or have survived it before.
2. “I’m sorry for your loss.” Ugh. The dreaded 5 word sentence that you hear repeatedly when you announce that someone you love has passed away. I believe that most people say those 5 words because death is hard, and we know that nothing you can say will make the person any less dead. It won’t make them come back. We don’t know what else to say but “I’m sorry.” It’s not the “I’m sorry” that bothers me, though; that is a basic and traditional way of empathizing with someone. Its the “for your loss” part that bothers me. Yes, physically, I lost my grandfathers. But, I didn’t lose them. I still have all their memories, I can still hear their laughs, I still see them dancing and play pranks on the waitresses when we go for lunch. Their songs and their trucks are still incredibly present for me. I did not lose my grandfathers. Yet, I heard that saying at least 50 times when I stood with my family at the calling hours. It sounded like a broken record and, honestly, it bored me. Though, I will admit, every time it was said to me, I teared up because I believed for a second that I actually lost them. But I didn’t. Saying “I’m sorry for your loss” is like the cashier saying “have a nice day” when you are checking out at the store; it’s just habit. It does not leave room for the person experiencing the death to open up and share how they are feeling. It closes the door to communication just because its awkward and the person offering their empathy doesn’t want to say the wrong thing. Remember who you are apologizing to, and why you are apologizing. You are apologizing for their grief, their suffering, the feelings and experiences that are going to come after the death. You are not apologizing for a loss, because those we love, we never really lose.
3. “You are strong. You’ll move on.” You are right. I am strong. Always have been, and always will be. The experiences that I am faced with have made me strong, and the ones I have yet to experience will keep me strong. However, moving on from something, to me, means that there is an end. A change or the way that something looks doesn’t always mean there there is an end or that something is over. I will not move on from splitting with my son’s father, and I will not move on from my grandfathers passing away. All were incredibly traumatic and difficult experiences, and I don’t want to move on from them. Like I mentioned before, I did not lose them. They are all incredibly present for me in my daily life, and they will be with how I make and keep connections with future boyfriends (or husband if I am lucky), in the way that I raise my son, the way I grow in my profession. They are all incredibly present for me in how I learn and grow as an individual and the values that I carry. So, I will never move on from them. I will, however, move forward. Life is going to continue, with or without me. And I want it to. I don’t want my life to stop just because I have had challenging experiences and made difficult decisions. I want it to continue, but I will not move on. Instead, I choose to move forward. I choose to move forward with life, through the lessons, the love, the experiences, the long nights, the tears. They are all a part of how I got to where I am today, so I choose to move forward instead of on; I don’t want to forget. I don’t want it to end.

Grief is hard. Supporting others going through a tough time is hard. Especially when we want to help, but aren’t sure what to say or do to help. And often times, there really isn’t much we can do to help. Sometimes the best help is just validating the feeling that the person is experiencing. Sometimes just being available and listening to a person is the best help. Sometimes just a check in or allowing for someone to be quiet but present with you is the best help. It is better to just be present than to say the wrong thing.