Personal Story
Conversations that help
By Momma R
Below is a practical, no-nonsense set of conversation scripts and prompts designed to help people talk about grief without over-explaining, performing, or protecting others at their own expense. These are not about being “nice.” They’re about being clear, boundaried, and honest—so your grief doesn’t get swallowed by social expectations.
When someone asks, “How are you?” Short + true (for casual spaces): “I’m managing today. Thanks for asking.” “It’s a mixed day.” “I’m here, which is something.” Honest without inviting fixing: “I’m having a harder day, but I’m taking care of myself.” “Grief’s loud today. I don’t need solutions—just saying it out loud helps.” If you don’t want to engage at all: “I appreciate you asking. I don’t really want to get into it right now.”
When you want to talk—but don’t want advice Set the frame first (this matters): “I want to share something, but I’m not looking for advice—just to be heard.” “Can I talk for a few minutes without it turning into problem-solving?” If advice starts anyway: “I know you’re trying to help. What helps more is just listening.” “I’m not looking to feel better—I’m looking to feel understood.”
When people say unhelpful things (“They’re in a better place,” “Everything happens for a reason,” “Be strong”) Gentle but firm redirects: “I know that’s meant to comfort, but it doesn’t land that way for me.” “I don’t find meaning in this yet—right now I’m just grieving.” Clear boundary versions: “That kind of framing doesn’t help me.” “I’m not looking for silver linings.” You do not owe emotional education. One sentence is enough.
When you need practical support (and people say “Let me know”) Most people won’t act without specifics. This is not a failure—it’s a reality. Direct asks: “Could you check in with me on Sundays for a bit?” “Would you be willing to sit with me for an hour this week?” “I could really use help with groceries / school pickup / a walk.” If asking feels hard, try this reframe: “I’m practicing letting people show up for me. Here’s something that would help.”
When you’re tired of talking about it Permission-granting exits: “I don’t have the energy to talk about my grief today.” “Today I’d rather talk about something ordinary.” If people keep pushing: “I’ll share when I’m able. Today’s not that day.” Protecting your energy is not avoidance—it’s regulation.
When you want people to understand this isn’t “over” Grief doesn’t follow their timeline. Scripts that reset expectations: “This isn’t something I move on from—it’s something I live with.” “Some days look fine. That doesn’t mean I’m done grieving.” “Anniversaries and quiet moments are still hard, even years later.”
When talking to close friends or family Naming the ongoing reality: “I’m changed by this. I’m still learning who I am now.” “What I need most is consistency, not intensity.” If distance has grown: “I know I’ve been quieter. It’s not about you—it’s about capacity.”
When someone disappears or avoids your grief This hurts more than most people admit. If you want to name it: “I noticed we haven’t talked much since my loss. That’s been painful.” “I don’t expect you to know what to say. Presence matters more than words.” If you don’t: Silence can also be information. You’re allowed to adjust access.
When you want to speak from truth, not collapse This is the core skill. Try this internal check before speaking: Am I sharing to connect—or to survive this moment? What’s the smallest true sentence I can say right now? Often, that sentence is enough.
A reminder worth keeping You are not responsible for: Making your grief palatable Reassuring others you’re “okay” Teaching people how to respond Your job is not to translate your pain into something comfortable. Your job is to stay honest—and take care of your nervous system while you do.