Last week, while reading the New York Times Magazine, I stumbled upon this question posed in the Ethicist section (bolded sections are emphasized by me):
Letter to the Ethicist:
I attend a cycling class with a rotating series of instructors. Recently the gym added a new instructor who is technically very sound, has great music selections and a generally motivating attitude, but toward the end of each of the three classes I’ve had with her, she has shared that her husband died of cancer three months ago. I think this is out of a genuine desire to help the class feel like we can push through anything, and I feel very sad that she has gone through this tough time. But it’s a real damper on my energy and experience. The gym sends out a survey after each class seeking feedback on the instructor. Is it appropriate for me to share that I find this discussion of her dead husband in class off-putting, or should I just choose to attend classes with other instructors? — Name Withheld
From the Ethicist:
This may be part of her grieving process, and different people in the class may respond to it differently. I wouldn’t use the survey to gripe about this issue. Instead, if you feel comfortable doing so, you could tell her, privately, that you respect her resilience but that you also find the subject draining rather than inspiring. Or you could indeed just choose classes with other instructors. A little kindness toward the widow wouldn’t go amiss; however vigorously we cycle, we are all, in Dickens’s resonant formula, “fellow passengers to the grave.”
Because I already went on a rant about this on Instagram (which you can watch here), I’ll spare you the full collection of f-bombs. Instead, here is my basic synopsis of both the question and, more importantly, the response:
The question, while insensitive, is not surprising. We live in a grief-adverse society and are not taught how to examine our own mortality or the mortality of others. We have no idea how to hold space for someone else’s pain. This person, “Name Withheld,” represents so many people who would rather avoid the fact that we are all, in fact, terminal.
Whether the instructor should or should not mention her grief in her professional setting, is a separate conversation in which we can argue both sides (personally, I believe that as a fitness instructor where mental strength is necessary, there is nothing wrong with being human and sharing your lived experience as a motivator to keep going).
My real problem is with the response from the Ethicist, who is the very impressive philosopher, writer, and thought leader, Kwame Anthony Appiah. Appiah bookends his advice nicely - he acknowledges the importance of kindness, suggests not using the survey to gripe, and reminds her that we’re all going to the grave (the Dickens quote was perfect). However, a week later, I still can’t get over the fact that this esteemed writer and philosopher is advising this person to confront the widow and tell her that the “subject” (the death of her husband) is “draining rather than inspiring.” It’s terrible advice.
How many grievers have felt like they were unable to share their grief experience for fear of being “draining?” For fear of bringing down the mood? For fear of having low vibes?
We are constantly silencing our grief - at the expense of our healing - to appease the comfort of others.
I hope I am not alone in letting Mr. Appiah know that his advice is harmful both to the individual woman and to society as a whole - that it reinforces the narrative that we can’t talk about our grief without being at risk of offending the sensibilities of others.
For those curious, here is what I wrote in response:
In regards to the cycling widow: I disagree with the advice of confronting the instructor. As someone who was widowed at 33, I know how grief-adverse our society is - and how often we grievers feel the pressure to stay silent so as not to be a “damper” on those around us.
Confronting a widow three months after the death of her husband to tell her that the story of her loss is “draining rather than inspiring” has the potential to add further grief to an already grieving heart. Instead, I would acknowledge her loss, her resiliency in showing up, and her courage to share her story. If the reader can’t find a way to reframe their experience with empathy and a little perspective, then I would suggest they quietly find another, less off-putting, instructor.
But I digress.
The point of this community chat is not to outrage us all on the silencing of this widow’s grief. It’s to uplift this woman - and every single one of us who has felt our grief is “draining” on the energy of others.
So my question to you is this: What if we could reach out and say something to that widow cycling instructor? What would you say to her? What words would you give to anyone who worries that their grief “dampers” and “drains” the energy of others?
Please share your response below so we can have a collective dialogue where we uplift those who are trying to manage their grief while living in a world that doesn’t want to see it. Let’s show that your grief - whatever it looks like - is welcome here.
And if anyone knows this cycling instructor who lost her husband 3 months ago (come on guys, we can find her!), send her this way. Her people are here.
I cried when I read the advice the NYT columnist gave. It brought me back to when I was 3-months out from losing my husband. Had someone said that to me, it would have crushed me even more than I already was.
So to that lovely woman I would say:
Thank you for trusting me with something so painful. Please keep sharing stories about your husband and your grief. There is no right and wrong way to process a pain that will be unbearable for a time to come. You will find people that can walk alongside of you in your grief. Unfortunately you will also find those that will not be able to, and that’s perfectly ok. Not everyone is ready to face an inevitable that comes for us all at some point. I hope you find moments of peace and grace for yourself in between the waves of grief.
I would also offer a hug, if she were so inclined (I know not everyone is a hugger). In my early stages of grief, a hug was sometimes the only physical touch I had with another person for weeks. It wasn’t until I lost my husband that I realized how important these small but meaningful touches were.
Your response is perfect and so full of love. And the reminder that not everyone can walk alongside her (and that it has nothing to do with her!) is really important.
I couldn't believe nobody realised, or at least they didn't address, the physical pain of going from breastfeeding / 24/7 touch to living alone overnight: I'd rather have been hungry or thirsty.
What I find draining in our culture is this persistent habit towards toxic positivity. I thought we were moving into more openness and vulnerability, but this shows that it isn’t entirely the case. Most likely, she needs to reflect on what is going on in her own heart that was maybe triggered by the instructor’s sharing. Grievers, please don’t stop sharing your stories, and your feelings.
I agree, Bethany! I think this says more about the person asking the question than the instructor. Why is it so hard for her to hear about the instructor's husband? Maybe the more we normalize talking about grief - and all the emotions that come with that - the more comfortable people will be hearing about people's real experiences.
You said everything I wanted to say. With your first sentence I cannot stop nodding in agreement. It really is a huge shame and disservice to humanity that after the enormous collective experience of the pandemic and the grief it brought, some people are LESS compassionate to those who have lost.
Yes, our grief is draining. It drains me every single day to the point I couldn’t care less how it affects others. It’s our pain and we should be able to chose how we share it with people around us. If they don’t like it, oh well, I’m too busy grieving the love of my life to care. People have an amazing tendency to make everything about themselves. If this person who wrote in thought her day was messed up by a simple mention of grief, she should imagine how it feels to live with it ever. single. moment. of. your. life. But we do it. We don’t only survive every day with grief but some of us find the strength to motivate others like that cyclist instructor. You know what’s draining? Motivating people who don’t appreciate you or what they have. For the first few months after my husband died I wouldn’t even tell people about his death because I was too scared of breaking down or the awkward replies. I admire anyone who in these first stages of grief finds the strength in them to share their story and try to help others!
Yes! The mere mention of her dead husband is draining? Imagine what it's like to be living that experience.
And I STILL feel awkward mentioning that Brad died to strangers because I'm worried about their response. It takes so much courage to do what the instructor did and to actually share.
I feel the same as everyone else has so eloquently already shared. The hugging the instructor if she is a hugger and how it's the only human touch some of us widows receive was HUGE to me.
YES! I had my first massage in years last Fall by a friend and the overwhelming realization that I hadn't been touched in a kind/loving way for a couple years at that point. So YES, giving massages as gifts to a grieving person would be amazing!
First, I would want her to know that some things in life are just unacceptable and the fact that her beloved husband is no longer here is one of them and that I am so sorry for that. Secondly, I would share these words from Liz Newman (poet/author) with her. "Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is continue. To survive another day with a broken heart. You're hurting, but you're here. It doesn't get any stronger than that." Lastly, I would want her to know that by sharing her grief and pain, she is, by extension, giving others permission to do the same and that is an incredibly beautiful gift.
Thank you for this beautiful reply. This response would be so healing to anyone who has experienced loss. I hope if she never sees this, she can at least feel this from others in her life.
I'm stealing this quote for those who openly tell me they'd never survive what we have. Way to make someone feel like they failed their loved one by staying alive.
The only thing I’d say to a stranger is “I’m so sorry for your loss. You are doing great.” But if I’m honest, before it happened to me, I may have distanced myself from it because it’s so sad and hard. (But also I had never met a young person that happened to) Even now I’m not sure I lean into other people’s grief as much as I do with my own, I even sometimes find myself less sad than I would have been before about most things
You're so right - so many of us probably responded that way before we experienced it first hand. I'm sure I was (and sometimes still am) unhelpful in many ways.
You also bring up a really good point of leaning into your grief more than other's. In my experience, it takes a certain level of healing/distance/perspective/work (whatever it is for you) before being able to fully lean into other's grief or fully feeling their pain. We can only take so much grief and usually our own grief takes priority.
I reach out more to others now and am way less awkward about doing so but.... I also feel less. I don't know if that's how I manage it. Bc things that would have had me weeping before don't affect me like that anymore. So more connected to others, maybe more disconnected from my own self..?!
Maybe it's more connected to others but more disconnected from their grief? I feel what both you and Nena are saying, but I also sometimes feel more now? Maybe it depends on the day? The hour? I don't know. Grief is strange.
I cried when I read the advice the NYT columnist gave. It brought me back to when I was 3-months out from losing my husband. Had someone said that to me, it would have crushed me even more than I already was.
So to that lovely woman I would say:
Thank you for trusting me with something so painful. Please keep sharing stories about your husband and your grief. There is no right and wrong way to process a pain that will be unbearable for a time to come. You will find people that can walk alongside of you in your grief. Unfortunately you will also find those that will not be able to, and that’s perfectly ok. Not everyone is ready to face an inevitable that comes for us all at some point. I hope you find moments of peace and grace for yourself in between the waves of grief.
I would also offer a hug, if she were so inclined (I know not everyone is a hugger). In my early stages of grief, a hug was sometimes the only physical touch I had with another person for weeks. It wasn’t until I lost my husband that I realized how important these small but meaningful touches were.
It would have done so much damage to me too.
Your response is perfect and so full of love. And the reminder that not everyone can walk alongside her (and that it has nothing to do with her!) is really important.
And the impact of a hug! Yes!
The hugs!
My loss was during early lockdown.
I couldn't believe nobody realised, or at least they didn't address, the physical pain of going from breastfeeding / 24/7 touch to living alone overnight: I'd rather have been hungry or thirsty.
X
What I find draining in our culture is this persistent habit towards toxic positivity. I thought we were moving into more openness and vulnerability, but this shows that it isn’t entirely the case. Most likely, she needs to reflect on what is going on in her own heart that was maybe triggered by the instructor’s sharing. Grievers, please don’t stop sharing your stories, and your feelings.
I agree, Bethany! I think this says more about the person asking the question than the instructor. Why is it so hard for her to hear about the instructor's husband? Maybe the more we normalize talking about grief - and all the emotions that come with that - the more comfortable people will be hearing about people's real experiences.
You said everything I wanted to say. With your first sentence I cannot stop nodding in agreement. It really is a huge shame and disservice to humanity that after the enormous collective experience of the pandemic and the grief it brought, some people are LESS compassionate to those who have lost.
Yes, our grief is draining. It drains me every single day to the point I couldn’t care less how it affects others. It’s our pain and we should be able to chose how we share it with people around us. If they don’t like it, oh well, I’m too busy grieving the love of my life to care. People have an amazing tendency to make everything about themselves. If this person who wrote in thought her day was messed up by a simple mention of grief, she should imagine how it feels to live with it ever. single. moment. of. your. life. But we do it. We don’t only survive every day with grief but some of us find the strength to motivate others like that cyclist instructor. You know what’s draining? Motivating people who don’t appreciate you or what they have. For the first few months after my husband died I wouldn’t even tell people about his death because I was too scared of breaking down or the awkward replies. I admire anyone who in these first stages of grief finds the strength in them to share their story and try to help others!
Yes! The mere mention of her dead husband is draining? Imagine what it's like to be living that experience.
And I STILL feel awkward mentioning that Brad died to strangers because I'm worried about their response. It takes so much courage to do what the instructor did and to actually share.
I feel the same as everyone else has so eloquently already shared. The hugging the instructor if she is a hugger and how it's the only human touch some of us widows receive was HUGE to me.
Yes! This is why gifting massages can be so lovely too.
YES! I had my first massage in years last Fall by a friend and the overwhelming realization that I hadn't been touched in a kind/loving way for a couple years at that point. So YES, giving massages as gifts to a grieving person would be amazing!
First, I would want her to know that some things in life are just unacceptable and the fact that her beloved husband is no longer here is one of them and that I am so sorry for that. Secondly, I would share these words from Liz Newman (poet/author) with her. "Sometimes, the bravest thing you can do is continue. To survive another day with a broken heart. You're hurting, but you're here. It doesn't get any stronger than that." Lastly, I would want her to know that by sharing her grief and pain, she is, by extension, giving others permission to do the same and that is an incredibly beautiful gift.
Hoping with my whole heart that we can find her!
Thank you for this beautiful reply. This response would be so healing to anyone who has experienced loss. I hope if she never sees this, she can at least feel this from others in her life.
I'm stealing this quote for those who openly tell me they'd never survive what we have. Way to make someone feel like they failed their loved one by staying alive.
I keep it in my Notes app and pull it up as a reminder to myself on the days that I don't want to (or think I can't) do another day.
The only thing I’d say to a stranger is “I’m so sorry for your loss. You are doing great.” But if I’m honest, before it happened to me, I may have distanced myself from it because it’s so sad and hard. (But also I had never met a young person that happened to) Even now I’m not sure I lean into other people’s grief as much as I do with my own, I even sometimes find myself less sad than I would have been before about most things
You're so right - so many of us probably responded that way before we experienced it first hand. I'm sure I was (and sometimes still am) unhelpful in many ways.
You also bring up a really good point of leaning into your grief more than other's. In my experience, it takes a certain level of healing/distance/perspective/work (whatever it is for you) before being able to fully lean into other's grief or fully feeling their pain. We can only take so much grief and usually our own grief takes priority.
I really appreciate your honesty.
I reach out more to others now and am way less awkward about doing so but.... I also feel less. I don't know if that's how I manage it. Bc things that would have had me weeping before don't affect me like that anymore. So more connected to others, maybe more disconnected from my own self..?!
Maybe it's more connected to others but more disconnected from their grief? I feel what both you and Nena are saying, but I also sometimes feel more now? Maybe it depends on the day? The hour? I don't know. Grief is strange.