Holding Space for Grief: What Helps, What Hurts

Grief shows up in many forms, after death, divorce, disappointment, or even the quiet loss of a future we thought we’d have. When someone we care about is hurting, it’s natural to want to help. But often, the words we reach for can do more harm than good.

Over the years, I’ve experienced my share of deep losses, and along the way, I’ve also heard a few spectacularly unhelpful comments. Well-meaning, perhaps. But misplaced. This article isn’t about judgement. It’s about awareness. If you’ve ever wondered what to say (or not say) to someone grieving, here are some gentle truths I’ve learned, rooted in lived experience, professional insight, and a whole lot of listening.

Grief Isn’t a Problem to Solve

When someone is grieving, whether from the death of a loved one or the breakdown of a meaningful relationship, the last thing they need is to be told to cheer up or get over it. These phrases might be common, but they’re far from kind.

Grief is not a mindset to be fixed. It’s a process that reflects love, attachment, and human depth. The more significant the loss, the longer the integration. And integration, not “getting over it”,is what healing truly looks like (Neimeyer, 2000; Kübler-Ross & Kessler, 2005). Because in truth, there is no “getting over” anything, not really. There is only getting through it, one breath, one memory, one moment at a time.

What Hurts: The Comments That Close the Heart

Here are a few things I’d gently suggest we retire from our vocabulary, especially when someone is hurting:

“Cheer up.” “You’ll just have to get over it.” “You’re just feeling sorry for yourself.” “Everything happens for a reason.” (Sometimes true, rarely helpful in the moment)

These comments, though sometimes offered with the intention of comfort, can feel invalidating and emotionally tone-deaf. They tend to shut people down rather than help them open up. They may even provoke anger, resentment, or withdrawal. As one person put it: “It made me want to give them a right hook.”

Why? Because when someone is grieving, they don’t need fixing. They need witnessing (Wolfelt, 2004).

What Helps: Listening, Presence, and Permission to Feel

Supporting someone in pain doesn’t require special training. You don’t need perfect words. You need your ears, to listen deeply without interruption or correction. Your presence, to let them know they’re not alone. Your arms, to offer a hug, if it’s welcome. That’s it.

Often, simply being with someone as they move through grief is the greatest gift you can give. When we speak our pain aloud, we begin to metabolise it. We don’t need answers, we need space. In fact, speaking allows a person to hear their own thoughts more clearly, and often, to reach their own realisations about what comes next. This is how true empowerment begins (Wolfelt, 2004; Neimeyer, 1999).

Grief Rewrites the Inner World

Grief often rewrites a person’s entire inner landscape. They may no longer feel like themselves. Their sleep may change, their appetite, their energy, their faith in others, or even in life itself. What looks like withdrawal might be someone simply trying to feel safe again in a world that no longer makes sense.

When we recognise that grief is not just emotional but cognitive, physiological, and spiritual, we can meet it with more compassion (Child and Youth Mental Health Service, 2009). Holding space isn’t just kindness, it’s allowing someone to reassemble their world without forcing a timeline.

Advice Isn’t Always Helpful, Even When It Comes From Love

Jumping in with advice, particularly when it’s not been asked for, can disempower the person who is grieving. Even if well-intentioned, it can feel like you’re steering their experience, rather than honouring it.

If you truly want to help someone move through pain, don’t rush to fix it. Don’t offer silver linings too quickly. Don’t confuse your discomfort with their need to be heard. Instead, you might try saying: “I’m here for you.” “This must be so hard, take your time.” “Would it help to talk, or would you prefer some quiet company?”

If they cry, hand them a tissue. Make a cuppa. Let them cry. Please don’t ask, “What’s wrong?”,because nothing is wrong. They’re grieving. They’re releasing. They’re healing (Beyond Blue, 2008).

Grief Isn’t Only About Death

It’s important to remember that grief doesn’t only follow death. It arises any time there is loss of identity, connection, or a sense of safety in the world. That includes: the end of relationships, the loss of a job or financial security, the death of a pet (which can be just as profound as losing a person), a major health diagnosis, moving homes or losing custody of children, the fallout from domestic violence, legal battles, or psychological trauma.

In family law especially, many people walk into a lawyer’s office having already lost so much, stability, trust, dreams for the future. What they need isn’t just legal advice. They need to feel seen as a whole human being.

Too often, lawyers are trained to focus solely on structure, precedent, and outcome. But when someone is living with the aftermath of emotional abuse, violence, or betrayal, those elements, while necessary, are not enough.

As someone who has worked across both legal and therapeutic systems, I offer this gentle reminder to those in the legal field: by the time someone reaches you, their world may have fallen apart. The trauma might not be visible, but it’s often sitting quietly in the room (Jigsaw Counselling, 2013).

You don’t need to be a counsellor. But you can be kind. You can listen just a little longer. You can avoid telling them to “move on” or “stay calm” before you’ve truly heard them out. You can refer them to trauma-informed professionals if they’re struggling to cope.

Your compassion may not be billable time, but it can be unforgettable. Trauma-informed presence matters more than polished technique. You don’t need to have the “right” words, you just need to be safe. Safety isn’t created by silence or solutions; it’s created by consistency, non-judgment, and allowing the person to be exactly where they are. For many, especially those experiencing PTSD, being heard without being redirected or doubted can be the most healing experience of all (Levine, 2010; van der Kolk, 2014).

Different People, Different Grief

Not everyone grieves the same way. Some cry openly, others go quiet. Some seek company, others solitude. Cultural background, personality, upbringing, and trauma history all shape how we move through loss. It’s important we don’t judge someone’s grief by how it looks. Stillness can hold oceans. And silence, sometimes, is survival (Walmsley, 2006).

Grief That Has No Name

Some grief isn’t obvious, like the grief of never having had what one needed. Or the grief that stacks silently after repeated change, instability, or systemic oppression. This is sometimes called disenfranchised grief or ambiguous loss, and it can be just as real and just as painful (Boss, 1999). We must create space for grief in all its forms, not just the ones that come with flowers and casseroles.

Let’s Talk About Bereavement Leave

It still stuns me that most workplace bereavement leave offers just three days, as if losing a child, partner, or parent is a brief interruption to your schedule, rather than a rupture to your entire existence. The expectation to return to “normal” so quickly speaks to how poorly grief is understood in our systems. It’s not just unfair, it’s cruel. Grievers need flexibility, support, and permission to be human. Anything less isn’t productivity, it’s trauma on top of trauma.

If You Are the One Grieving, Please Know This

You are not broken. You are not too sensitive. You are not behind. You are simply walking through the valley of loss. You don’t need to hurry. You don’t need to pretend. There is wisdom in your slowness. There is dignity in your pain. You are already healing, just by feeling.

Final Thoughts: Grief is Not a Detour, It’s a Doorway

We tend to treat grief like an interruption to normal life. But really, it’s a powerful, transformational part of it. So next time someone close to you is hurting, ask yourself: Can I be still enough to let them feel? Can I resist the urge to fix or judge? Can I offer presence, even when it’s messy?

In a world that often rushes past pain, being willing to stay, with honesty and heart, might be the most radical act of kindness we can offer.

Whether you are the one grieving, or the one standing beside someone in grief, thank you for caring. May we all become gentler with what we cannot see. And braver in how we hold one another through the sacred work of being human.

Written by Cheryl O’Connor (originally 2018, revised 2025)
Author | Artist | Holistic Counsellor | Social Worker
Exploring where structure meets soul , through law, healing, and symbolic art.

References

Beyond Blue. (2008). Grief, loss and depression. https://www.beyondblue.org.au
Boss, P. (1999). Ambiguous loss: Learning to live with unresolved grief. Harvard University Press.
Child and Youth Mental Health Service. (2009). Grief and loss fact sheet. Queensland Health.
Jigsaw Counselling. (2013). CHCCS426B Provide support and care relating to grief and loss assessment (V1).
Kübler-Ross, E., & Kessler, D. (2005). On grief and grieving. Scribner.
Levine, P. A. (2010). In an unspoken voice: How the body releases trauma and restores goodness. North Atlantic Books.
Neimeyer, R. A. (1999). Narrative strategies in grief therapy. Journal of Constructivist Psychology, 12(1), 65–85.
Neimeyer, R. A. (2000). Lessons of loss: A guide to coping. McGraw-Hill.
Walmsley, R. (2006). The grief workbook. Children, Youth and Women’s Health Service.
Wolfelt, A. D. (2004). Understanding your grief. Companion Press.
van der Kolk, B. (2014). The body keeps the score. Viking.

© Cheryl O’Connor (Cheoco) 2025. All rights reserved.
This article reflects personal experience, professional insight, and research-based knowledge.
Please share only with full credit and a link back to www.cheoco.com. Not intended as a substitute for professional advice.