
“You’re so strong.”
It’s meant to be comforting. Encouraging, even. A way of expressing admiration for how someone is holding it all together in the wake of profound loss.
But here’s the thing:
Sometimes, being called strong feels less like support… and more like pressure.
When someone is grieving, they are often already struggling to keep their head above water. Internally, they may feel fractured, raw, exhausted, or even numb. But if the world keeps telling them they’re strong — they may feel like they have to act like it.
It becomes another weight to carry.
Praising someone for being strong can also unintentionally invalidate their experience. It may make them feel like they’ve lost permission to express the full reality of their grief, however that is showing up. If they do break down or need support, they might worry they’re “letting people down.”
Here are some simple, compassionate alternatives:
“You don’t have to be okay right now. I’m here.”
“I see how much you’re carrying. You don’t have to hold it alone.”
“It’s okay to not feel strong right now.”
“You don’t need to be anything other than exactly how you are.”
“I’m here — no matter what.”
These kinds of words create space. They invite honesty. And they give permission to grieve - which encourages healthy processing of emotions.
Instead of praising people for holding it all together, let’s honour the courage it takes to fall apart — and still show up.
Strength isn’t the absence of pain. It’s the courage to feel it. It’s allowing ourselves — and others — to be fully human.
To cry.
To collapse.
To speak the truth: “This is hard. I miss them. I don’t know how to keep going.”
Because grief isn’t weakness. And vulnerability isn’t the opposite of strength.
It IS strength.
So the next time you’re tempted to call someone “strong,” pause.
Ask yourself:
Am I praising them for how well they’re hiding their pain? Or am I giving them permission to show it?
Because true support isn’t about applauding strength. It’s about making space for the broken parts.
It’s meant to be comforting. Encouraging, even. A way of expressing admiration for how someone is holding it all together in the wake of profound loss.
But here’s the thing:
Sometimes, being called strong feels less like support… and more like pressure.
When someone is grieving, they are often already struggling to keep their head above water. Internally, they may feel fractured, raw, exhausted, or even numb. But if the world keeps telling them they’re strong — they may feel like they have to act like it.
It becomes another weight to carry.
Praising someone for being strong can also unintentionally invalidate their experience. It may make them feel like they’ve lost permission to express the full reality of their grief, however that is showing up. If they do break down or need support, they might worry they’re “letting people down.”
Here are some simple, compassionate alternatives:
“You don’t have to be okay right now. I’m here.”
“I see how much you’re carrying. You don’t have to hold it alone.”
“It’s okay to not feel strong right now.”
“You don’t need to be anything other than exactly how you are.”
“I’m here — no matter what.”
These kinds of words create space. They invite honesty. And they give permission to grieve - which encourages healthy processing of emotions.
Instead of praising people for holding it all together, let’s honour the courage it takes to fall apart — and still show up.
Strength isn’t the absence of pain. It’s the courage to feel it. It’s allowing ourselves — and others — to be fully human.
To cry.
To collapse.
To speak the truth: “This is hard. I miss them. I don’t know how to keep going.”
Because grief isn’t weakness. And vulnerability isn’t the opposite of strength.
It IS strength.
So the next time you’re tempted to call someone “strong,” pause.
Ask yourself:
Am I praising them for how well they’re hiding their pain? Or am I giving them permission to show it?
Because true support isn’t about applauding strength. It’s about making space for the broken parts.