Ask a Grief Coach
Platitudes Suck
Deconstruct what you say to help instead of hurt.
“Everything happens for a reason.”
“Her death allowed me to pursue this new dream.”
“My loss is the reason I’m here.”
These are platitudes. We say them to ourselves to make sense of our loss. We say them to others to offer comfort. On the surface, they feel so right! But what encouraged us in our grief may fall flat to another, leaving us stunned and confused at their outrage.
The grief world is full of direction on how to support the grieving without exacerbating their pain, but no advice is universal. For example, the three platitudes listed above were recently given in an honest expression of one woman’s grief story. She carries each statement in her bones, and without hesitation would offer each as an encouragement to the next person in pain.
When do these statements become platitudes of pain? When our context and intention as the speaker is misaligned with reality. Platitudes only work when we’ve misunderstood correlation and causality. Knowing the difference between the two can be the balm that soothes instead of making our griever feel the burn.
In my work as a grief coach, I help grievers breakdown the intentions behind the cringeworthy statements. Sometimes we can locate the heart of compassion at the center of the remark. Maybe they really do believe that everything happens for a reason, and I can give them a break for disregarding my own beliefs in the process. Sometimes we can’t, and we have to come up with a plan to give the griever distance.
If they are so harmful, why can’t we stop ourselves from using platitudes?
Platitudes are not for the sake of the griever but to alleviate our own discomfort. One of my best friends lost her spouse nearly a decade ago. Over the first few months, her life was full of offers for support, dinners, and the like.
Then one rainy December afternoon, we sat on her porch wondering where it all went. It had been nearly a year since his passing. We discussed how as condolences stopped, so did the check-ins and coffee dates. She didn’t understand. I didn’t have any good answers. She figured that as a single mom, her schedule was no longer flexible enough to navigate social hours. So she stopped trying to see her friends altogether. And they stopped calling.
As I listened, I was quiet. At the time, all I could offer was my silence. But now I can see that how the duration of her grief was causing those who loved her to stumble. It wasn’t her schedule, although she worked full time and had two children under 10. The discomfort of loving someone long term, through the hardest loss of their life, requires us to center their needs over our own. But when we cannot control the circumstances, we try to control the emotions by offering platitudes to repair what is broken.
When we focus on our own comfort, we lack empathy. Our sympathies grow weary after the first few platitudes. When we don’t notice a difference, our impatience draws us back into our own, self-centered existence. With our noticeable absences, we are communicating to grievers, “Let us know when you’re done feeling so sad, so we can get back to being around you again and feeling comfortable.” We must learn to get out of our comfort zones if we have any hope of being authentic.
Let’s breakdown platitudes and find a better way.
Reading each statement above triggered a feeling. How can we find the meaning on either side of our emotional reaction? By exploring the differences between causality and correlation. Distinguishing the two will help us understand why a platitude might encourage some and damage others. Then we can make better decisions about how we speak with the grieving and ourselves. While it’s not our role to correct someone in their thinking pattern each time they share their emotion, we can still offer loving support by learning more about what helps and what harms.
“Everything happens for a reason, but at least now you’re free to pursue the dream and find purpose for your life.”
“They’re in a better place.”
“You’re able to move on.”
“It will get better.”
The Problem: These statements imply that the death/loss was a necessary offering to the universe/God/divine plan to move our self-centered story forward. Karma demands recompense. The volcano demands a sacrifice. God needs our obedience, and this person is a distraction or roadblock to our growth.
The Reality: As the griever, we want to know that our loss was not in vain. There must be a rationale behind our grief that we can take as proof that we will be okay. These statements dismiss the value of the other party (to an extent). They also remove our responsibility to self-actualization. It’s easier to blame someone else for our lack of vision or passion in life. Have you ever heard a spouse say, “We’re just focusing on their career right now?” It’s the same idea. Being supportive in a healthy relationship does not mean minimizing your existence to offer support.
The Correlation: The reason for the death/loss is that life is ephemeral. Regardless of your belief system, all things in life are impermanent (even inside reincarnation). Learning to reckon with the uncertainty of our next breath allows us to live life breathing deeply, despite great loss. If we can comprehend our own fleeting existence, we can look at each relationship with discernment and appreciation. We can find meaning that is unique to us, and that is the point of working through our losses. In the same way we pursue individual passions through life, we find meaning that moves the needle for us. We process grief for our own growth first, then on behalf of others.
The Causality: We would never admit this, but we love using another person as our excuse to hold back on our dreams. One person’s death is not the reason we have freedom. When we have tied our storyline to another, we create dependence. While it is true that great loss is often a catalyst toward the new (I’m living proof), I could just as easily have chosen to pursue grief work without losing my parent. Her loss is not the reason I’m here. It is the reason I remain when it becomes overwhelming. I see greater value in this work now, but not because I lost a parent. Causality requires a direct association to the outcome that could not have otherwise occurred.
It’s the difference between the reasons for a woman’s face to grow red.
Causality: I slapped her face. Her face turned red.
Correlation: I called her names. Her face turned red.
In the second example, shame is the cause of her skin color (we think)! My behavior is correlated to the shame, not the changing shade of her skin. She may also just feel very hot. So many variables!*
And this is true of grief. There are so many variables that to reduce our comfort to a simple formula or platitude is to deny the complexity of our stories. But if we understand that no answer will satisfy, we can become the few who offer support that is needed, valued, and desired in the aftermath of great loss. We can shake our need for comfort and get into the real beauty of life.
Should we correct the person grieving if they’re attributing causality to their loss and subsequent healing?
Nope. Unless you’ve been explicitly requested to be a person who speaks influentially into their life (and you would know), then assume you do not have the right to cross that boundary. We offer platitudes because we assume the griever wants comfort. But how do we know?
The other day, a woman online assumed my openness in storytelling was an invitation to direct, guide, and question my thought process. It was not. Through assumption, she offered platitudes and false-comfort. It felt wildly self-serving and upset me for a few hours. My hackles raised and I became defensive.
My reactions to what I experienced are common. We don’t like being told what to do. Very few people even have permission to influence or question our lives. Like a coach, therapist, or best friend. Just because I’m a coach does not mean I’m your coach, and I won’t fill that role unless we have an agreement. The same is true of relationships. Grief occurs when those boundaries either get highlighted or shattered.
In the same way, platitudes arise when we are trying to fill a role that we have not been invited to fill. As you gain awareness of your own understanding in grief and how platitudes work, be mindful of your relationship to the people you want to comfort. If you find yourself offering a platitude to help, become curious instead. It can make all the difference.
How can my curiosity help where platitudes hurt?
Grief is not a problem to be solved. It is a natural, important piece of our experience as humans. Becoming curious suggests that you do not have all the answers, which is true.
When you encounter an expert, you expect them to share their knowledge. Like a professor. We are willing to sit through hours of lecture just to gain an iota of their wisdom. Grief does not work like this, because life experience in an arena is not the indication of expertise. So while you may have experienced bull-riding at the rodeo, then tried to ride yourself at the bar after three shots of tequila, I still recommend leaving the roping and riding to the trained professionals.
Experience is an incredible teacher — the only. Does loss after loss make us an expert? No. But a willingness to remain curious and open to new ways of understanding grief does suggest a stronger grasp of acceptance of impermanence. It is our willingness to remain teachable, despite our longstanding experience, that unwinds the lasting damage of platitudes. Instead of showing up to comfort, we show up curious.
Have you ever corrected a child who is proud of their work? When my daughter shows me her drawings, the last thing I want to do is teach her a better way to draw a camel. I want to celebrate her work! She’s trying something new that is hard and imperfect. It will take a long time to hone her skill. Life is hard and imperfect. If we spend our time with grievers trying to hurry their methods as they are learning how to live a new life, we will destroy them. Instead, show interest and patience. Here, curiosity will guide you away from platitudes, every time.
If we spend our time with grievers trying to hurry their methods as they are learning how to live a new life, we will destroy them. Instead, show interest and patience. Here, curiosity will guide you away from platitudes, every time.
*Footnote: Now that things are simplified, let’s complicate it again. It is completely reasonable and understandable that correlation could imply causation. Especially as we see in grief work, the need for tangible explanations is human nature. We want to understand why something happens so we can perhaps influence future outcomes and prevent new traumatic events.
But causation is a tricky beast to capture. It is the healing and beauty that came out of the loss, not as a result of the loss. Implying the former is often what causes the griever to stumble on your words, lose their own, and stop answering your calls.
Lastly, if you want to explore more about correlation and causality, I highly recommend this delightful video on YouTube from MinutePhysics — the lesson ends at the three minute mark. https://youtu.be/HUti6vGctQM
Mandy Capehart is a certified grief and life coach, and creator of The Restorative Grief Project. The Restorative Grief Project is an online community focusing on one another’s stories and new methodologies for grief, creating a safe environment for our souls to heal and our spirits to be revived. For more information, visit www.MandyCapehart.com/grief or follow along with weekly columns on Ask A Grief Coach!
