by Melinda Seley, PLPC
Sitting with someone else in their pain can be hard. We don’t know quite what to say. We want to fix it. Make them happy. Change their perspective so it doesn’t seem as bad. Keep them from wallowing in their pain. Or maybe we just don’t want them to bring us down. Feel their pain. Or for something to be required of us due to their struggle.
This blog is for myself as much as it is anyone else, because sometimes – when someone else is struggling – we say things without even realizing how hurtful or unhelpful they might be. In hopes of reducing the number of times this happens for all of us, I offer this list of “what not to say to someone who is struggling”:
“You’re struggling with being single? Just wait until you’re married, then life gets hard…”
“You’re struggling with being a new parent? Just wait until you have three kids…”
“You’re stressed out working part-time? Just wait until you’re working full-time…”
Just wait until. It can be hard not to compare our struggles to those of others, can’t it? When someone else expresses a difficulty and we feel that our current position has more challenges, more pain, more stress, it’s difficult to meet that person where they are and offer empathy. It is easy to diminish the pain of others when we don’t fully know what it is like being in their shoes. We are all different. We have different strengths and weaknesses; different personalities that make certain things harder for some than others; different support networks; and we’ve had parents and teachers who have equipped us differently to handle life’s challenges. If we are farther along in a particular life situation (relationships, parenting, working, etc.), it is easy to forget that the first time at something is often the hardest. There are lessons you learn along the way that lead and guide for future increased responsibility, depth of relationship, etc. If we had more supportive, loving, present parents than others, we forget that that makes a profound difference in our ability to handle stressors.
If you find yourself saying “just wait until” …what keeps you from being able to step out of the place of comparison, see the other’s struggle where they are, and offer a response of empathy?
“You’re struggling with paying your bills on your current income? At least you have a job…”
“You’re struggling with pain your parents caused you? At least your parents are still alive…”
“You’re struggling with being a parent? At least you were able to have kids… “
At least. I find myself saying this to a friend when I want to point to what is still good or what didn’t happen that could have made their situation even worse. At times, this can be helpful. Putting situations in perspective and finding things to be grateful for is not bad. But when I consider my motivation for saying “at least”, it is often because I am afraid of feeling the other’s pain or “giving them permission” to sit in the pain of what is happening. When I say “at least”, I am indirectly saying – “you can’t be sad/disappointed/angry/etc. about ____, because it could have been worse.” Instead of validating their emotion in response to a bad situation and being with them in it, I basically said “you just need to be grateful it wasn’t worse.”
What keeps you from giving the other space to feel their emotions before pushing them into a place of gratitude?
“You’re struggling with your husband being deployed? It’s only 3 months…”
“You’re in 10th grade and sad you just broke up with your girlfriend? It was just a high school relationship….”
“You say you’re struggling with depression? You’re just sad…”
“It’s only” and “you’re just”. These are the phrases of minimization. Of invalidation. Communicating there is no reason to feel what is being felt. Or at least to the extent that they may be currently felt. Thinking that if they only had my perspective, they would see it’s not that big of a deal. And again, while it can often be helpful to frame our experiences within the context of a bigger picture or in light of gratitude, I ask us to consider our motivation when inviting another to do so. Does it help us avoid having to acknowledge that what they are going through is hard for them? Do we view our suffering as greater and therefore need to make sure others know that what they’re going through isn’t that big of a deal? Can we be humble enough to consider how they, unique as they are, might be feeling this pain?
What keeps you from validating another’s pain rather than minimizing what they are experiencing?
If you read the responses above and a specific interaction with a friend or acquaintance came to mind, know that you are not alone. Feeling another’s pain is uncomfortable. Often scary. And awkward. It requires something of us in that we have to see life from the other’s perspective and feel things on behalf of someone else.
What keeps you from being able to step out of comparison, give someone space to feel their emotions, or validate their pain?