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What NOT to Say When a Loved One Is Struggling

/ Support, Connection, Emotions, Self-Awareness / By

When someone we love is struggling, our instinct is to help. We search for the right words, eager to ease their pain. But often, despite our best intentions, we end up saying things that make them feel worse—things that shift focus away from their suffering and towards our own discomfort.

This doesn’t happen because we don’t care; it happens because caring deeply can feel overwhelming. Psychology calls this self-referential empathy—a state where our empathy turns inward, blurring the line between their pain and our own. The good news is that genuine, compassionate support isn’t a mysterious skill reserved for therapists. It’s something any of us can learn, one mindful conversation at a time.

We’ll explore how to support someone when they’re struggling—why our attempts to comfort can sometimes backfire, the phrases to avoid, and simple, research-backed ways anyone can offer real emotional support.

When Caring Hurts: Empathy vs. Compassion

Empathy connects us to others’ feelings—but sometimes, it overwhelms us. Neuroscience shows that when we witness someone struggling or in pain, the same parts of our brain light up as if we were hurting ourselves (Singer & Klimecki, 2014). This emotional resonance can tip into empathic distress—a self-focused state that leaves us anxious, drained, or eager to shut down the other person’s pain simply to stop our own discomfort.

In contrast, compassionate empathy is other-focused. It activates feelings of care, warmth, and motivation to help, without the panic or helplessness (Singer & Klimecki, 2014). The goal is not to turn off empathy, but to balance it with compassion—staying connected, yet grounded enough to be a steady presence.

Think of it this way: empathy feels the storm, compassion steers the boat.

Why We Sometimes Make It About Ourselves

Even the most loving people can slip into self-centred reactions when faced with another’s distress. It’s rarely intentional—it’s a reflex.

  • Discomfort with emotional pain: When someone we care about cries, our body reacts as though we’re in danger. That discomfort can make us rush to end their sadness—saying things like “It’s not that bad” or changing the subject (Brown, 2014). This impulse doesn’t come from cruelty; it’s our brain’s way of fleeing emotional pain, even when it isn’t ours.
  • Ego threat and defensiveness: When the other person’s distress even hints that we might be responsible, our ego jumps to defend itself. “Well, I’ve had a hard day too!” or “I didn’t mean it that way!” are ways of protecting our self-image rather than soothing theirs (Gottman & Silver, 1999). It’s a human reflex to restore control when we feel blamed or inadequate.
  • Attachment patterns and old emotional habits: The ways we connected (or struggled to connect) early in life can colour how we respond now when others are struggling. People with anxious attachment might overreact—trying to fix, overhelp, or seek reassurance that they’re not “failing” their loved one. Those with avoidant attachment might withdraw, feeling suffocated by emotion (Collins & Feeney, 2000). Neither is a moral flaw; both are attempts to manage inner anxiety.
  • Trying too hard to relate: “I know exactly how you feel” sounds empathetic, but can silence the person sharing. As Harriet Lerner (2025) notes, we may hijack the moment with our own story, turning a cry for understanding into an unintended competition. Each person’s experience is uniquely shaped by their context and history, so what they most need is space to tell it in their own words.
  • Fixing instead of feeling: Some of us cope with discomfort by becoming problem-solvers. “You just need to stay busy,” or “You should get out more” may sound helpful, but they subtly communicate that the person’s emotions are inconvenient or wrong. As Knight (2015) explains, this kind of premature advice often reflects our need to manage anxiety, not their need to be heard.

Recognising these patterns within ourselves is the first step to becoming a more wholesome listener when our loved ones are struggling. Once we can see the patterns, we can actively choose empathy over impulse.

What Not to Say: Common Well-Intentioned Missteps

Certain phrases, though well-meant, can deepen a loved one’s sense of isolation or shame. Here’s what to avoid—and what to say instead.

  • “At least…” statements
    Phrases starting with “At least” are meant to reassure but end up minimising the person’s pain. “At least it wasn’t worse” or “At least you have another chance” sound like perspective, but feel like dismissal. Brené Brown (2014) reminds us that real empathy never begins with “At least.”
    Try instead: “That sounds really hard. I’m so sorry you’re going through this.”
  • Comparing or one-upping
    Comments like “Others have it worse” or “I went through the same thing and…” may stem from a desire to connect but often derail the conversation. They imply the other person’s suffering doesn’t measure up or that your story matters more (Benitez et al., 2020; Lerner, 2025).
    Try instead: “I can only imagine how painful that must be for you. Tell me more about what it’s been like.”
  • Jumping to fix it
    “You should just…” or “Here’s what you need to do…” can feel invalidating, especially when someone isn’t ready for solutions. Research shows people who are struggling seek emotional connection first, not instructions (Johnson, 2008).
    Try instead: “Would you like me to just listen right now, or do you want to talk through ideas that might help?”
  • Toxic positivity
    “Stay positive,” “Look on the bright side,” or “Everything happens for a reason” sound supportive but can make people feel ashamed of their sadness (Shipp & Hall, 2024). Pain denied is pain prolonged.
    Try instead: “It’s completely okay to feel like this right now. You don’t need to force yourself to be positive.”
  • Making it about you
    Saying “Oh no, now I’m so worried about you!” shifts the focus away from the person who’s struggling. It may even make them regret opening up (Herman, 2015).
    Try instead: “Thank you for trusting me with this—I’m here for you.”

Each of these examples reflects the same truth: words meant to comfort can sometimes close the door to connection. Awareness—paired with gentleness—is what keeps it open.

Simple, Compassionate Ways to Respond Instead

You don’t need therapy training to be supportive. When someone is struggling, the most healing responses are grounded, patient, and human.

  1. Pause Before You Speak: Take a slow breath. Regulating yourself first helps you show up calm rather than reactive (Gilbert, 2014).
  2. Listen to Understand: Focus on what they’re saying, not what you’ll say next. Genuine listening creates safety (Lerner, 2025).
  3. Name the Feeling: Saying, “That sounds really frightening” helps people feel seen (Barrett, 2017). You’re not judging or fixing—just acknowledging. And if you’re inaccurate, they’ll correct you.
  4. Stay Grounded: You can show emotion without collapsing into it. Offer gentle steadiness—“I’m here with you”—not panic (Gilbert, 2014).
  5. Let Them Lead: Ask what they need: “Do you want to talk more, or just sit together?” Respecting choice restores a sense of control (Knight, 2015).
  6. Use “We” Language: Subtle shifts like “We’ll take it step by step” remind them they’re not alone (Gilbert, 2014).

Small Actions That Make a Big Difference

Tiny, genuine gestures often comfort more than perfect words.

  • Reflective Listening: Repeat or paraphrase to show you understand—“So when that happened, you felt really let down?” (Rosenberg, 2003).
  • Empathic Silence: Sit quietly. Sometimes presence matters more than speech (Lerner, 2025).
  • Gentle Questions: “What’s been the hardest part?” invites sharing without pressure (Brown, 2014).
  • Encouraging Help: “You don’t have to face this alone. Talking to a counsellor or exploring trauma therapy could really help—may I help you find one?” (Gilbert, 2014).
  • Self-Care for Supporters: Supporting someone doesn’t mean sacrificing yourself. Compassion fatigue is real; take time to rest and process (Singer & Klimecki, 2014).

Learning how to support someone when they’re struggling is about presence and compassion. When you resist the urge to fix, minimise, or compare, and instead, listen, validate, and stay—it can mean the world for someone in distress.

As Sue Johnson (2008) reminds us, love means being accessible and engaged when it matters most. Each time we choose compassion over self-reference, we strengthen the bonds that make healing possible—for both the person we’re helping and ourselves.

In the end, what people need isn’t a perfect response—they need to know they’re not alone. These simple acts of presence and compassion are how we begin helping a loved one heal. 

If you need help on your journey we’re always just a call away!

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