It’s Okay to Say, “I Don’t Know What That Is Like for You, But I Am Here”
There is a quiet moment that comes when someone we care about is hurting—and we realize we don’t have the words.
We hesitate.
We second-guess ourselves.
We tell ourselves we don’t know enough, haven’t been through the same thing, or might say the wrong thing.
So we pause.
And sometimes, that pause turns into silence.
This happens often when pain feels unfamiliar—grief, illness, trauma, divorce, loss, or a season of life that doesn’t resemble our own. We step back, not because we don’t care, but because we don’t know how to enter someone else’s sorrow without understanding it.
But empathy does not require shared experience.
It requires presence.
It is okay to say, “I don’t know what that is like for you, but I am here.”
Those words create a bridge. They let someone know they are not alone in the unknown.
And often, support doesn’t come from the perfect sentence. It comes from the small, human gestures that say, I see you.
Bringing over a meal when someone can’t think about feeding themselves.
Dropping off a card or a small note just to say, you matter to me.
Running an errand. Sitting quietly. Checking in without needing a response.
These offerings may feel small to the person giving them—but to someone who is struggling, they can be everything.
When people are hurting, isolation can take hold quickly. And in that isolation, our minds can begin to spiral. We question our worth. We wonder if anyone notices. We tell ourselves we are a burden for needing support at all.
Sometimes, a simple act of kindness—a meal, a message, a gesture of care—is enough to interrupt that spiral. Enough to remind someone that they matter. Enough to help them take one more breath, one more step forward.
You do not need to know the depth of someone’s pain to walk beside them. You only need the willingness to offer something real.
And if you are the one struggling—if you don’t know how to ask for help—know this: your need does not make you weak. Your pain does not make you invisible. There are people who want to show up, even if they don’t yet know how.
Reach out if you can.
Offer care when you’re able.
Receive it when it’s offered.
This is how connection happens—when we choose presence over perfection and learn to meet one another through the simple act of being there.

