#41 What NOT to DO when someone's grieving: 5 common missteps (and what to do instead)

A Griever's Guide to Grief Support: PART 3

Jul 17, 2025

Welcome back to our series on grief support — from one griever’s perspective.

In Part 1, we unpacked what grief support truly means, and how it comes both from within us and from those around us. Part 2 zoomed in on that external support: what it really looks like to show up with sincerity and compassion for someone who’s grieving.

Over the next two posts, I want to flip the conversation to the other side: the common missteps we make when trying to help, that despite our best intentions, aren’t as comforting as we hoped — or in some cases, may inadvertently cause more pain.

Today, we’ll focus on what not to DO, along with some practical ideas for how you can do better. In Part 4, we’ll dive into what not to SAY, with helpful tips on what to say instead.

This is a topic I’m deeply passionate about, so I’m excited to dive in — and I’d love to hear your thoughts along the way.

a person's hand holding a cell phone in front of a green background — Photo by Anastasiya Badun on Unsplash

Welcome to Grieve Fully, Live Fully! A space for honest, heartfelt reflections on grief, growth, and the messy, beautiful middle of being human.
Whether you’re navigating loss, facing life’s uncertainties and challenges, or simply seeking a little hope, you’re not alone.
I’m Ruhie — writer, doctor, mum & grief advocate. I don’t have it all figured out, and you don’t need to either. Let’s walk this path together with honesty, intention, and compassion. I’m truly grateful to have you here.

Most people want to be there for someone who’s experienced a loss. Our heart is in the right place — but when someone is grieving, it’s easy to feel unsure. You worry that you’re saying the wrong thing, doing too much, or not doing enough. You want to be helpful, but you’re scared of getting it wrong.

I’ve felt this too — even as someone who’s experienced profound personal loss, and has spent years supporting others through grief as a doctor. Professionally, I’ve grown comfortable in conversations about sickness, death and dying. But in my personal life, I still hesitate sometimes. I still get tongue-tied around people I care about who are hurting. It’s human to feel uncertain. Even with experience, grief conversations can feel daunting, complicated, and incredibly delicate.

Part of why it’s so hard is that grief itself is confronting. Even though loss is something we’ll all experience, there’s something deeply unsettling about being faced with it up close — especially when we’re watching someone else in the thick of it. It stirs up our own pain, our own worst fears. It makes us feel vulnerable, and often powerless.

I also think it has a lot to do with the culture we live in — one that tends to avoid difficult, emotional conversations, and prizes productivity, positivity, and ‘moving on’ over honest expressions of pain. We’re often taught, whether explicitly or not, to hide our grief, to keep things light, to make others comfortable. So when someone is openly grieving, many of us freeze. We have no map for how to respond.

And while there’s no one-size-fits-all way to support someone grieving, patterns do emerge. Over my thirteen years in medicine and six-plus years since my dad died, I’ve witnessed many of these moments—from both outside and inside grief—and I’ve made my own mistakes too.

This is not about judgment or criticism. It’s about awareness. Because when we know better, we can try to do better.

So in this post, I want to walk through some of the most common missteps people make when trying to support someone who’s grieving — and what we can do instead.

Disappearing because it makes you uncomfortable

One of the hardest parts of grief is how isolating it is. You’ve already lost someone you love — but when friends and family start vanishing too, it only deepens the loneliness.

I understand why it happens. As we touched on earlier, grief makes us all wildly uncomfortable. We worry we’ll say the wrong thing, or that we’re intruding. But silence can feel like abandonment.

If you care about someone who’s grieving, try not to ghost them. Even a short message saying “I’ve been thinking about you” can mean the world.

It’s okay to feel awkward. But don’t let that stop you from showing up.

Expecting them to tell you what they need

It’s natural to think “They know I’m here if they need me. I’ve told them so.”

But grief often makes it incredibly hard to ask for help — even for something simple. You’re vulnerable, disoriented, and not always sure what you need. You don’t want to burden anyone.

The people who helped me most when my dad died didn’t wait for me to reach out. They didn’t wait for instructions. They just showed up. They sent food. They took me out for coffee. They offered to babysit. They checked in, over and over again. They made it easier to let them in.

Don’t wait to be asked. Take initiative. It won’t go unnoticed.

Taking their silence as a sign to back off

When I think back to the days, weeks, and even months after we lost my dad, I know people sent me messages I never replied to. Countless calls I never returned. Not because I didn’t appreciate them — quite the opposite — but because I just didn’t have the energy. And I didn’t want to bring them down with my sadness.

Grief shuts down your body as well as your mind. It takes everything out of you. Even answering a text can feel like too much.

If you don’t hear back from them for a while, or even at all, don’t take it personally. Keep reaching out when you can, gently and without pressure. Just knowing that people still care about them can bring real comfort in what is probably the hardest time of their life.

Assuming they’ve moved on

This is a big one. They’re back at work. Posting holiday photos. Laughing again. You assume the worst is over.

But grief doesn’t vanish once life looks ‘normal’. It weaves itself into the everyday. It stays, even when smiles return.

Grievers get really good at masking what lies under the surface. I can tell you from experience, just because they seem okay doesn’t mean the pain is gone. The pain of loss never truly goes away.

It’s still okay to ask. It’s still okay to talk about it. In fact, it often means just as much the further out you are from the loss. Even now when people ask about my dad or tell me stories about him, it’s so special because it’s a way to keep his memory alive and to feel closer to him again, even for a moment.

Worrying you’re being ‘too much’ by bringing it up

Some people have told me they don’t bring my dad up in conversation because they’re afraid it will make me sad. But here’s the truth: I’m already carrying that sadness. I live with it every day.

Not talking about him doesn’t protect me — it just makes me feel more alone in missing him.

You can’t remind someone of something they haven’t forgotten. You’re not reopening a wound that isn’t already there. What you are doing is reminding them that their person still matters. That their life is still remembered. That their grief is seen.

And that means more than you could ever know.

So don’t hold back. Your words might bring tears, yes — but they’ll also bring connection and comfort.

If you’ve made some of these missteps before — you’re far from alone. I’ve been there too. Supporting someone through grief is challenging, and it’s okay to stumble along the way. We all feel unsure at times, worried about doing the wrong thing or not doing enough. Grief is messy and personal, and there’s truly no ‘right’ way to support someone through it.

What really matters is what comes after those moments we might ‘mess up’, or our words or actions fall flat: the willingness to keep learning, to listen with an open heart, and to show up again and again.

You don’t need perfect words, grand gestures, or all the answers. Simply being present with kindness and the courage to sit alongside someone’s pain, even when it feels uncomfortable, is what real, meaningful support is all about.

In the next post, we’ll explore the common communication pitfalls — in other words, what not to SAY when someone is grieving, and the kinds of words that can provide comfort instead.