The Problem with Calling Grievers “Strong”
- Eunice Curry
- Oct 7
- 2 min read
2020 Reflections – Part 3 of 5
After my mother passed, people often told me how strong I was. They meant it as encouragement, a way of recognizing that I was still functioning, still handling the endless responsibilities that follow loss. But strength doesn’t mean the absence of pain — and it certainly doesn’t mean we don’t need support.
When “Strong” Feels Like a Shield
What many don’t realize is that “strength” can sometimes be a survival mechanism — the face we put on because there are things that simply have to get done. It’s not the same as being okay.
For me, that label occasionally felt like an excuse for people to check in less often, or to assume I didn’t need practical help. It’s as if strength was mistaken for self-sufficiency. The truth? I still needed meals dropped off. I still needed a listening ear. I still needed someone to ask, “How are you really doing?”
The Human Side of Strength
Strength and vulnerability can exist side by side. You can be strong enough to take care of responsibilities — and still feel fragile inside. Being called “strong” isn’t wrong, but it shouldn’t replace real care.
What I See as a Grief Counselor
In my work with grieving clients, I’ve seen this pattern over and over. The people who appear to be coping “well” often receive less support than those who are visibly struggling. Friends and family may assume they’re “fine” and shift their attention elsewhere, leaving the griever to carry their pain quietly.
This is why I encourage people to look beyond appearances. Strength is not a signal that help is no longer needed — it’s often a sign that the person has learned how to function while holding heavy grief in their heart. They still need checking in on, even if they make it look easy from the outside.
If You’re Supporting Someone in Grief
Instead of only saying “You’re so strong,” try:
Ask directly: “What’s been hardest this week?”
Offer specifically: “Can I bring you dinner on Wednesday?”
Acknowledge humanity: “You don’t have to hold it together for me.”
Final Thought: Strength in grief isn’t about not breaking — it’s about finding ways to keep going even while you’re broken. If you’ve been called “strong” in your own grief, how did it feel? And if you’ve used that word to comfort someone, what might you say differently next time?








I enjoy reading your perspectives. It helps me know that I’m not alone on my thoughts about the things you cover. Thank you for the invite 😊