Looking on the Bright Side (Helps You Not Me)
Imagine this:
It’s a Sunday afternoon, and the weather is borderline unbelievable- sunny, breezy, and cloudless, and whatever outfit you’ve selected does not make you feel too hot or too cold. You’re walking home with your favorite song in your headphones (I imagine it’s Lizzo), when you are approached and subsequently robbed of all your belongings (rude). You’re jittery, ashamed, and in shock- you just got robbed, after all. You call a friend or perhaps a family member, maybe a police officer. They arrive at the scene, listen to all the information you’ve given them, trying their best to absorb it all. Finally, they look at you and say:
“At least the weather is perfect.”
Ah, the dreaded “At Least”. If this response seems like a bizarre, unconscionable overreaction, I get it- but bear with me while we do a quick check in. Let’s consider any number of deeply hurtful experiences that someone could approach you with:
- They feel down, or sad, for no apparent reason.
- They lost an important item or were betrayed by someone they care about.
- They got sick or hurt themselves unexpectedly or had to change or cancel big plans they were really excited for.
- They lost a loved one, got fired from a job, endured a brutal breakup, or experienced some form of violence.
Captured by Kate Bell
This is a tiny collection of the hardship we endure as humans, and what we’re most likely to share with our closest and most trusted network. If you’ve ever heard this and jumped into “look on the bright side- at least you still have a roof above your head!”, or maybe “cheer up, at least you still get to go on vacation next month!”, you’re not alone- nor are you saying anything necessarily untrue. It is our nature to want to soften the blow of things that make our loved ones sad. It is uncomfortable to see the people we cherish go through something hard- regardless of how “big” or “small” it seems to us. It is also one of the most painful ways to respond to someone who is deeply hurting. I would like to use this space to explain why.
“At least” is, at its core, a modifier. It is a response that begs us to divert our attention from the root of our pain in order to bring our focus elsewhere. At best, it distracts us. At worst, it asks that we abandon the emotions we are feeling, leaving them to linger in the narrative that they are not worthy of our care and attention.
Here’s why ‘At Least’ fails in these circumstances. The trauma, and the subsequent negative feelings originating from that trauma, are not problems to be solved. It is a human response that deserves to be heard and has to be carried. An “at least” watches me engage in the heavy lift of grief and says “that looks too heavy to help you with, I’d rather pick up something lighter.”
The weather being beautiful does not change the fact that I was robbed. Having a great vacation planned does not soften the blow when I am in the pain of a breakup. A roof over my head does not take away the excruciating reality of working a job that crushes my spirit. We know that these things- the good and the bad- can and do exist at the same time. But if you point out the sun’s warmth and I cannot feel it because I am hurting, 2 things happen at once: I still hurt- AND- I now feel like I’m failing the both of us because I can’t embrace the sun.
I don’t mean to make light of robberies with this analogy- I live in the District of Columbia, which boasted the highest robbery rate in the United States in 2020- 332.9 robberies per 100,000 inhabitants (source: • Robbery rate in the U.S, by state 2020 | Statista). But I use this specific example for a reason. A robbery happens every 1.7 minutes (source: FBI — Crime Clock). A death, on the other hand, happens about every 12 seconds- 1,027 per 100,000 population (source: FastStats - Deaths and Mortality (cdc.gov)). At some point in our lives, we may be called to comfort someone who has been robbed. We absolutely will be called to comfort someone who has lost a loved one or is grieving a death. And consider some of the most common responses to death:
“At least they lived a beautiful life, and died surrounded by the people they loved”
“You shouldn’t be sad, at least they’re in Heaven now”
“At least you still have your mom/dad/sister/brother”
Notice the similarities?
Baby Kate Bell
I do not want people to think they are failing when they try to comfort their loved ones, or that I judge and shame them for doing their best with the knowledge they have. I also don’t want people to think that I am incapable of “looking on the bright side” in hard times, or that someone else’s healing is dependent on every word or phrase we utter. I want to be categorically clear: an effort to soften the blow of hurt or pain experienced by a loved one is, in my opinion, one of the highest and most sacred forms of love and care we can show to one another. But there are ways to do that, to bear witness to their pain, to not just look on while they carry the heaviness but actively pick it up with them, that are simpler than you might imagine.
So, what do we say? How do we respond when we know someone is struggling? Here are a few of my favorite tips.
1) Ask:
a. How are you feeling today? How is your day going?
b. I know it has been hard recently- is anything you think might bring you joy?
2) Acknowledge:
a. “Thank you for sharing that with me. It means the world that you trust me with that”
b. “That sounds difficult. I’m sorry you’re in pain, and I wish there was something I could say that would take it away from you”
c. “You have an amazing community around you, and still it makes perfect sense to me that you still feel isolated. We all love you and are here to remind you of that.”
3) Act (and get specific! Instead of “how can I help”, try this):
a. “Would doing something together tonight help you feel any better?”
b. “Would you like me to walk your dog for you this weekend so you can have some free time?”
c. Make a reminder on your phone to check in with them at a frequency that feels natural
d. Send them a card, a picture of something you know makes them happy (animals, nature, Auntie Ann’s original pretzel nuggets… too specific?)
Photo of Kate Bell by: Maggie Morris, @themaggiemorris on instagram
Someone grieving may actually offer their own ‘At Least’ to you. They may say “I am in pain, but at least I know xyz.”. Let them offer that before you propose it. That is an invitation for connection, not unlike the one they offer by sharing their pain with you.
When the skies clear, and the weather is beautiful again, there will be time to enjoy the sun. Being better allies to the people we love who are hurting is what helps us all bear the clouds.
By: Kate Bell
Kate Bell is a DC native with a passion for mental health advocacy. At work she is a strategist, developing plans to get more young people and people of color into the medical field. Outside of work she spends her time hiking, reading, and playing with her cat, “Pizza”. She can be found on instagram at @heykatebell.
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