I think most of us would think of ourselves as considerate, wouldn’t we? We offer help, we listen, we advise, we support people.
Our intentions are good.
But what if the people we’re ‘helping’ don’t see it that way? What if instead of making them feel better, we actually did the very opposite?
If you want to be the person who offers a safe haven for someone else’s feelings, I’d firmly suggest giving the following things the boot.
7 common ways people unintentionally dismiss other people’s feelings:
1. Offering the classic phrase “Look on the bright side!” (or some variation of it).
Your friend breaks their arm slipping on ice. They come to visit, and you say, “Look on the bright side! At least it wasn’t both arms.”
Your friend, rather than feeling comforted, pictures whacking you over the head with their hard plaster cast, all the while you’re thinking, “What a wonderful friend I am.”
(Thankfully they hold back; after all, they don’t want the cast to break).
Sure, your heart is in the right place, but you’re totally dismissing that your friend can’t drive for several weeks, nor can they go swimming, which they love for fitness. They also can’t cook properly, and it’s a nightmare trying to wrangle the kids with just one usable arm. Not to mention they’re in a lot of pain, and the cast is itching like mad at 2 in the morning.
Yet when you use an invalidating phrase like this, all they’ve heard is “Just get on with life and stop complaining.”
Fine, it could be worse (that’s another classic phrase), but that’s not what they want to hear when they’re knee-deep in their crisis, is it?
They want permission to fall apart, so they can slowly start to put themselves back together again. They don’t want to be rushed into it before they’re ready.
And why not? It’s okay to be floored at times, as long as you don’t make yourself at home down there.
The fact that somewhere, someone has it worse doesn’t mean your friend’s feelings are not valid. Suffering is not a competition. If it were, only one person in the world would be entitled to it.
All you really need to say is, “Wow, things are dire for you right now; I hear you.”
2. Trying to show them the lesson before they can process what they’re going through.
Isn’t this one interesting? Some people just love to highlight lessons to people who are only just beginning to process something they’re experiencing.
“This moment is trying to teach you to slow down!” “You know you should see this as a lesson to never mess with home renovations.”
The other person is standing there, trying to process the ceiling that just collapsed on them because they didn’t plaster it properly. The last thing they need is you – Sally Smart – offering ill-timed pearls of wisdom. They shoot you a look that says, “Ya think?!”
Most people already know the lesson; they don’t need you pointing it out whilst they’re covered in plaster. It’s not even remotely helpful, and it isn’t going to improve the situation. In fact, it’s likely to make it worse.
3. Crossing the line from relating to stealing the spotlight.
This usually starts with a well-meaning, “I know how you feel…”
Breaking news: Nobody knows exactly how anyone feels.
We can sometimes have some idea, especially if we’ve been through what that person is experiencing, but ultimately nobody ever feels exactly the same, because we’re all different.
Yet in our desire to connect and empathize, it’s so easy to fall prey to it. You’re with someone who is in the middle of spilling their heart out, and the urge to share your experience is real.
“I know how you feel. When I…” “I totally get you. This happened to me when…”
When you start sharing your experience, they have to stop sharing theirs, which is hard to do, particularly when it’s something significant. They’ve now become the listener, rather than the talker in the conversation.
Now, it’s worth pointing out that this rarely comes from a self-centered place. Usually, it’s done with the best intentions. In fact, it’s a very common way of expressing empathy among autistic folk.
You mean well, and you want to show them that they’re not alone, but even so, a fundamental truth applies: most people want to feel heard. And if you’ve started talking about your experience and never returned the mic to them, they are unlikely to feel that.
You’ve made the conversation about yourself, rather than them.
So by all means, relate; let them know you can empathize because you’ve been through something similar. But be sure to hand the conversation back to them if you want them to feel connected to you, rather than steamrolled over.
4. Telling them that they’re being sensitive.
First of all, I am here to validate any person who is sensitive by nature, because sensitivity gets an unnecessarily bad rep. All “sensitive” really means is that a person feels things deeply — and since when has being a human instead of a robot been a flaw?
That often makes them great listeners and validators of other people’s feelings, which is often more than can be said for what they receive in turn.
When you label someone’s sensitivity as a bad thing, you are essentially saying, “Your reaction is wrong.” But who are you to decide what the right or wrong response to any situation is? Why is your reaction the right one?
Again, we’re all different. People sit on different sensitivity scales, and pointing out theirs as if it’s an issue shuts them down rather than helping them open up.
If you want them to feel safe with you, don’t critique the way they feel — listen to it.
5. Telling them how strong they are while they’re falling apart.
The last thing I want to hear when I’m crumbling is that I’m strong. Clearly, if I’m crumbling, then I’m not feeling strong, and if I’m not feeling strong, that should be okay.
I don’t know why, as a society, we have built the impression that we always need to be strong. That we should never talk about how we’re really feeling, and that if we do, it should always end with strength.
It’s unhelpful, and it also pressures people into thinking that’s how they should constantly be. They end up performing strength, when really they just need a little grace to feel how they feel.
In the right moment, it can be empowering to remind someone of their strength, but at other times it can sound like you’re saying, “Please be strong, so I don’t have to deal with this.”
Sometimes, people just don’t want to have to be strong anymore. That’s usually why they’re confiding in you. I tend to just sit with them on these days and let them feel it.
6. Trying to cheer them up before they are ready.
“Let’s go out for the day!” “Let’s hit the town!” “I know a great bar.” “I got tickets for that concert.”
What wonderful gestures, under the right circumstances. But maybe they were up all night worrying about a parent whose health is poor, and they really just need to rest. Or they don’t know how they’ll make rent next month, and unnecessary spending is the last thing they need.
I know you really want to try to make that person feel better. You hate to see them struggle. But when you don’t take into account their reality and their preferences, your suggestions risk coming off dismissive, like their problems don’t exist to you.
That might be how you cope, but we aren’t all the same. So by all means, ask them if they’d like to do those things, but then respect their answer.
7. Asking them why they’re bothered by this situation so much.
“What’s the big deal?” “Why do you let this get to you?”
When you say something like this, you are essentially telling the other person, “I don’t see the significance of this problem.” And that may be so, but you are not them. We are all different. Just because something wouldn’t bother you does not mean your experience is the only valid one.
Or maybe you’re thinking, “If I show you there’s no big deal, you’ll stop being so upset by it.” But all they hear is, “You’re overreacting and are making a mountain out of a molehill.” Now you’ve added shame into the mix, and that isn’t going to do any good at all.
Instead, it’s nice to just be there and understand that this person is upset. That’s really all there is to the art of empathy: believing someone else’s experience, even if you can’t relate to it yourself.
Final thoughts…
You don’t even realize you’re doing it, right? That’s what you’re thinking when you’re saying or doing something while your good friend or relative is going through a bit of an emergency.
You’re there, showing up to be that pillar of support. Yet you end up somehow making them feel worse, and that’s the last thing you wanted.
Sometimes, all people need is a person next to them who says, “That sounds tough; I’m here for you.”
Let’s all try that next time.
