Fewer Things Better
Fewer Things Better
Ep. 171 - The Kindest Words Never Said: Showing Up When It Matters
Some words are too important to keep to ourselves—yet we often do. We assume people already know how we feel. We wait for “the right moment” that never comes. Or we shy away because vulnerability feels risky. In this episode, we talk about why it’s worth pushing past the discomfort, how speaking up can lighten our load, and the surprising freedom that comes when we finally give those words a voice.
Show Notes:
The other day, I was recording a short video that will be part of a new course my friend Jen Levin is creating. It’s based on her new book called, The Traumatic Loss Workbook, she designed it to help people who are navigating grief after a sudden or unexpected loss. As I was trying to put together words, I realized how tender and universal this topic was. I found myself reflecting on just how hard it can be to say the right thing — or anything at all — in moments of grief, whether it’s our own or someone else’s.
As a lifelong writer, former journalist, and professional speaker, words are my constant companion. And yet, they have been the hardest to find when times are hard.
My Dad passed away about a dozen years ago, and when it came time to write the obituary for his funeral, my family naturally looked to me to do it. With all the emotion in my head and my heart I just stared at the page. I couldn’t find the right words to string together to talk about a life, much less, love and loss.
But grief isn’t the only time when words get quiet. Sometimes, we fall silent in the face of joy. When big life milestones happen, our words can feel too small, or too formal, or just... not quite right.
And that’s what I want to talk about in this episode:
The kindest words we never said.
The ones we thought, but didn’t share.
The ones we didn’t know how to say.
The ones we wished we’d heard ourselves.
The Bottom Line on Top of this episode is that words left unspoken carry a much heavier weight than a clumsy conversation. It’s the effort that matters, not the prose itself.
Whether we’re searching for words for happy or sad times, the heart and brain will take a natural pause.
In emotionally charged moments, our brain struggles to access the right words. High emotion = high cognitive load. Sometimes social scripts (like “I’m so sorry for your loss” or “Congratulations!”) are starters, but they can seem shallow or impersonal.
In psychology, there’s something called the Zeigarnik effect that tells us our brains cling to unfinished things — like conversations we didn’t have. That text we didn’t send. The encouragement or pride you meant to share. These linger not just in our memory, but in our nervous system almost like an emotional itch.
As someone who's been on both sides of grief, there is no expiration date for sharing kindness. Even all these years later, I still appreciate it when a couple dear friends reach out to me around the time of my father’s death or even on Father’s Day. The thing is, they lost their parents, too. It’s a club to which I wish no one belonged, but once you’re in it, it’s a welcomed place.
I saw a post recently by successful entrepreneur and author Jesse Itzler (he’s very famous, very well off and very human). On the two-year anniversary of his dad’s death, he woke up and he said he got a text from a friend that said: “I know this is a tough day. Thinking about you and your family.”
It was from his friend Maureen. He later said, “I have 15,000 contacts in my phone, that was the only message I got about my dad that day.” He called and he thanked her, he asked how she even remembered. She said she keeps a simple system of important events for important people to her and she reaches out on those dates because she’s been on the other side of them.
To be seen the way she did is one of the simplest yet most impactful gifts we can ever give to someone else. And the words don’t matter.
And here’s the even better news: You don’t even need the perfect words.
Sometimes just saying “I don’t know what to say, but I’m thinking of you,” that’s better than any hallmark card out there.
Or you can say something like:
“I saw this and thought of you.”
“I’m just checking in, no need to respond.”
These are small phrases, but they land big.
In Episode 18, I wrote about seven words that can change your life. It’s not a collection of magical spells, it’s a few words that can offer so much. I’ll put a link to that in show notes but here’s a quick recap:
The first two words are simply Thank You.
Most of us do an in-the-moment thanks which is a great real-time acknowledgement for the kindness or the effort that was just extended. Doing it again, or taking time to do it a little bit longer, that’s going the extra mile.
It says that the time, the effort registered. In today’s add-to-cart lifestyle, any amount of time given is actually a gift. When someone offers you insight, support, and, yes, actual gifts, they’re investing in you. There are so many short cuts available, and they chose the longer route.
So saying thank you is a bright yellow highlighter – quick to use and hard to miss.
The next words are I Love You.
And I know, those are meaningful. Here’s the thing though, from a science perspective, expressions of love specifically, evoke feelings. These feelings, in turn, release chemicals for both parties–chemicals like serotonin, adrenaline, and oxytocin. So, when you share those three words, you’re actually packing extra vitamins emotionally and biologically.
Expressing your love (romantically, platonically) it’s an emotional paper clip, clasping meaning to the connection that you have. At our most basic root, we want to know that we matter. And it matters that we know.
There are many ways for love to be shown but hearing it, however, is the direct line to the heart. Don’t let those words sit unspoken. Their power is in the giving – and their impact multiplies the more they are shared.
The final two words are: I’m Sorry
Put forward the words – no matter how difficult –no matter the circumstances and offer them simply for healing and for hearing, for you and, hopefully, for the other person. It’s not up to us how they are received, but it does matter that they are offered.
Why even make such an awkward effort? Because unspoken words, especially those around the sorry-es, carry a great weight. There’s a quote from American author Zora Neale Hurston which says: “There is no agony like bearing an untold story inside you.”
And that’s part of what “I’m sorry” offers – a chance at having a gentler end to a story – or at least another chapter. It’s not trying to erase or revise what already happened; it’s simply owning the impact and perhaps offering a token of your better self. I had a silly argument back at the end of college with a dear friend of mine and years passed before I got past my own pride to reach out. It took one email and that friendship, that sisterhood has been a cornerstone of my life for 30 years since.
So, don’t worry about the what to say or when to say it and just reach out. Instead of waiting also for somebody’s big day (or difficult day), reach out to them days before, weeks after and just say: “Thinking of you.” It’s a way to offer your presence without being in the way.
Name the awkward when it happens. “I know some time has passed, I’ve thought of you often, and I just wanted to check in on you.”
If it’s too hard to say it, write it, even if you never actually send it. You don’t even have to give it to anybody. But your brain will register some closure there.
There are a lot of things we hold back — because we don’t want to intrude, or say the wrong thing, or make it awkward. Or as I’ve shared before, we are full of our own pride.
But I’ve learned that when people are hurting — or even healing — awkward doesn’t matter. Authentic does.
So whether you’re holding space for someone who is in grief or loss, celebrating someone in joy, or thinking of someone from your past or even your present, try saying the thing that’s been on your mind.
Let it be imperfect.
Let it be yours.
Because the kindest words you have yet to say… carry so much value.
And it’s better for words to be a little awkward than lost forever.
I’ll close with my own thank you — to you, for listening.
Until next time, take good care of you.