We all seem to have something in us that wants to be a fixer, and when we see someone hurting we feel this nagging urgency to help them. When someone you love, especially, is experiencing great sadness your top priority is often aimed towards setting things straight. This is what we think we must do to be a good friend, but it isn’t necessary.
I recall after my mother died three types of people that approached me at her funeral.
First there were the ones who came to my rescue with accolades of encouragement. They told me of how she was singing with the angels, and while it was certainly a comfort to know she was no longer in pain as she strolled the streets of gold, it seemed like these well-wishers were trying to take my grief away. And because of that a part of me wanted to punch them in the mouth. You see, I needed my grief at that time. I didn’t want to hear that I shouldn’t be sad because in reality I was devastated, and telling me I shouldn’t feel that way only made it worse.
I don’t hate them for that. On the contrary I appreciate their desire to console me. It just didn’t help.
Next there were the people who felt uncomfortable in my presence. It was as if they feared the stigma of death might leap off me and infect their own happy life. They might have offered a weak, half-hug then disappeared quickly. I probably wouldn’t have even noticed if it weren’t for the uncomfortable way they glanced in my direction as if pitying my tears, then swiftly would look away before taking their leave of absence.
I didn’t fault these people for their reactions. After all it’s human nature to want to separate yourself from another’s pain. At the time when you’re hurting you don’t want pity, you just want to be left alone, so the absence of those who felt uncomfortable at my loss didn’t really bother me.
I think the reason most people feel uncomfortable around another’s pain is because they don’t know how to fix it, and in their uncertainty they feel like a failure as a friend. So they do the only thing they know to do; they distance themselves.
But then there was a third group of people in the aftermath of my mom’s death. These people were much like the others in that they too knew that eventually my grief would lessen with the knowledge of eternity. Yet they also didn’t know the right words to say to take away my pain. The difference with this small circle of individuals, though, is that they were fine with that. They understood that my grief didn’t depend on their ability or inability to make me feel better. They knew I was hurting, and they let me hurt.
True friends will not try to fix you. They will support you, and they will help you as you need, but they won’t feel an urgency to make things better because in essence that only makes the person trying to fix you feel better.
Friends who know you best will sometimes not even say a word. They will sit with you, being present as an available support system if conversation is required, but I think we all know that sometimes it’s just not.
The best way to help someone who is hurting may require doing nothing. Sure you make yourself available, and you supply a shoulder to cry on or an ear to hear their pain expressed in racking sobs, but you don’t actually have to try and make it better. Because sometimes you just can’t.
Many times when someone is experiencing emotional pain the best thing you can do is just be there. You don’t have to offer wise sentiments or an explanation of the grieving process. You just sit there. You listen. You hold them. You don’t try to fix it; rather you allow it to mend.
Heather says
This might sound a little strange, but I read this in reference to my own hurting emotions! You see, I’m the one who is hurting and don’t know what to do with myself! I love the idea of not being afraid of my hurt. I can just allow myself to hurt and not try to fix myself and wait for it to mend (breathing a sigh of relief)!
brieann.rn@gmail.com says
Awesome! Thanks for sharing. Sometimes we have to surrender ourselves.