You Don’t Need Perfect Words

One of the most common things I've heard after years of teaching mental-health material is: I wouldn't know what to say. It's understandable. If we think someone might be struggling, suddenly the conversation feels important. We worry about saying the wrong thing, embarrassing them, making things worse or opening a conversation we're not equipped to handle.

And then there's the question hiding underneath all of those concerns: What if they actually tell me what's wrong? Then what? I think we've created an impossible standard for ourselves. We assume that if we ask someone if they're okay, we're somehow accepting responsibility for fixing whatever comes next.

We're not.

We don't need a magic sentence. We don't need to diagnose anything. We don't need to have experienced what they're experiencing. Sometimes our role is considerably smaller. Notice. Ask. Listen. Stay. There will obviously be situations that require professional help or intervention. Knowing our limits matters. But our lack of expertise doesn't make our presence meaningless. Sometimes another person simply needs somewhere to begin. Maybe they talk. Maybe they don't. Maybe we stumble over our words. Maybe all we can honestly say is, "I don't really know what to say, but I'm here."

That's still something.

I've become much less interested in teaching people exactly what to say because human beings rarely follow scripts anyway. I'd rather encourage people to become comfortable with not having all the answers. Because a conversation doesn't have to solve everything to matter. Sometimes courage is simply being willing to begin.

— Jason Alderson