#13 The problematic line in "The Perfect Couple" I just can't get past

As someone who has lost a loved one, I'll tell you why it's so jarring

Dec 20, 2024

person holding silver laptop computer — Photo by Juraj Gabriel on Unsplash

For those who don’t know or need a refresher, “The Perfect Couple” was one of Netflix’s most popular shows in 2024. Based on Elin Hilderbrand’s New York Times bestselling novel, it is a six-part mystery-drama series that explores the fallout and murder investigation following a shocking death at a lavish family wedding in Nantucket. Although the show came out in September, much to the shame of my fellow millennials I am notoriously late to anything ‘zeitgeist-y’ and have only recently finished watching it.

In today’s newsletter, I reflect on my reactions to a line that came up several times during the show — something I assume most people (understandably) overlooked the first time they binged it, but for me having lost someone I loved like one of the main characters, I found it unexpectedly triggering. I’ve done a lot of soul-searching to get to the bottom of WHY, which gave rise to this piece that I wrote when I was part of the way through the series.

**Spoiler Alert** I reveal who dies, but not how (at the time I wrote this, I had not reached that part yet!)

A special shoutout to Eva Lydon, professional copyeditor and graphic designer right here on Substack at Great Little Edits for proofreading the original version of this piece - presented here is a slightly modified version. Eva’s edits and feedback were invaluable!

I’d love to hear from you! When you’re done reading, click the comment button and let me know:

Have you watched “The Perfect Couple”? If you have, did not notice this line at the time?
What other ‘lines’ or questions that people often say or ask in the context of grief have you found problematic?

Dear Dad,

As you know, I’m always late to trends; be it pop culture, beauty, entertainment, or fashion. So, it’s unsurprising I jumped on the “The Perfect Couple” bandwagon late too. I’m four episodes in, and finally get the hype. I’m also on a mission to learn the opening dance sequence.

But there is one line that keeps coming up, that I just can’t get past.

“Are you ok?”

In episode 3, this question is asked multiple times to the bride-to-be, Amelia, on her wedding day. Seems reasonable, right? Until you consider the context — her best friend, Merritt, was just found dead the night before the wedding, under very suspicious circumstances.

Of course she’s not okay!

I understand this is part of the characterisation of her fiancé’s family, who are the ones posing the question. Insanely rich. Successful. Powerful. Entitled. They weren’t thinking about Amelia’s grief. They were preoccupied with how a tragic and mysterious death, on their multi-million-dollar beachfront property, would be portrayed in the media. Their tone-deaf repetition of this question, like a collective broken record, painted a very clear picture of their family. One far more concerned with their own image, rather than with real people and normal human emotions. Presumably, it was also a way of placating Amelia before she started snooping, because everyone seems to be hiding something.

Still, every time I heard them ask “Are you okay?”, literally on the day her best friend died, it was like fingernails on a chalkboard. Because, as someone who has lost a loved one, it transported me back to the time after you died — when I was in the throes of grief and on the receiving end of such questions.

Don’t get me wrong, I get why people ask this. It is our way of reaching out to those we care about and checking in with them. I’ve had to do a lot of soul-searching and reflection to get to the bottom of why I find this question problematic in the context of grief, despite it being well-meaning.

1. It is impossible to answer.

After you died, six years ago, I had no idea how to respond when people asked this question. Do I tell them if I am okay now at this exact time, or how I felt yesterday when I was looking through old photos and videos and realised, this is all I have left of you now? How about when I watched a TV show last week where the father character died, or this morning when I laughed whilst remembering your terrible sense of direction? It was overwhelming.

Grief is complex and multifaceted. We can feel several emotions within a short span of time, sometimes all at once. We might be “okay” one moment, but ask a moment later and our answer could be completely different. These broad stroke questions are incredibly difficult to answer.

2. It puts the onus on the person grieving to open the conversation.

I’m a pretty open person, but when I was asked questions like “Are you okay?” or “How are you?” after losing you, I often resorted to a non-committal “I’m okay!”, because it felt safer and easier than sharing the reality of what I was going through. Grief is not pretty. It’s hard and sad and messy. General questions require the griever to take on the responsibility, of being vulnerable enough to share their innermost thoughts. Even when you’re talking to someone who cares about you, it can be incredibly daunting to bear your soul on heavy subjects like death and grief.

3. It shows a lack of intuition and empathy.

Deep down, the other reason I found this question so triggering is because I think it underlies a reticence to exercise our imagination, compassion, or even just a basic understanding of the human condition. Have we really never thought about how it would feel to lose someone we love, or whether we would be “okay” if we were in their position? I believe these vague questions speak to our deep-seated discomfort as a society with confronting difficult topics like grief.

So, how could the Winbury family have approached Amelia differently in the aftermath of her best friend’s death?

Trick question. They wouldn’t. Because it’s fiction.

But in real life, we should try asking more insightful and nuanced questions. Ones that spark a conversation and allow the grieving person to talk about their loved one and experience in specifics, not generalities.

My cousin once asked me, “What do you miss most about your dad?”, which made me reflect on my relationship with you and the qualities I appreciated about you. Another time a friend asked, “What was the hardest part about the last few years?”. This gave me space to talk about caring for someone with a profound disability and coping with terminal illness, in a way that didn’t feel like I was trauma-dumping onto them.

Ultimately, I’ve learnt the hard way through firsthand experience that avoiding generic questions like “Are you okay?” and instead asking something that is personal and heartfelt, is a much more meaningful form of support.

We can’t take away someone’s grief; but by letting them know we’re comfortable talking about it, maybe they won’t feel so alone in their sadness. And perhaps one day when we’re in their boat, they or someone else will repay that kindness to us.

Miss you every day, Dad. Love you always. Until next time 💌

Ruhie

I’d love to hear from you! When you’re done reading, click the comment button and let me know:

Have you watched “The Perfect Couple”? If you have, did not notice this line at the time?
What other ‘lines’ or questions that people often say or ask in the context of grief have you found problematic?

Grieve Fully, Live Fully

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