When someone we love is murdered, language fails. There are no tidy words for the magnitude of that loss, the chaos it brings, or the ripple effect that lasts a lifetime. Moreover, most of the time those around us have never been in our shoes. In this awkwardness, people often rush to say something. Anything! And unfortunately, sometimes what they offer is not just unhelpful—it hurts.
“I know how you feel. My dog died.”
“I miscarried. I lost a child too.”
“Everything happens for a reason.”
If you’ve ever heard words like these after a homicide, you’re not alone. Many survivors have. And if it made your stomach twist, your blood boil, or your chest tighten—you’re not overreacting. You’re human.
Why It Hurts So Much
These kinds of comments often stem from good intentions but poor execution. The speaker is trying to connect with your pain through their own. But instead of connection, it feels like erasure or invalidation. It flattens the horror of homicide—its violence, injustice, and permanence—into something more socially palatable. It unintentionally shifts the focus from your grief to their discomfort. And that hurts, too.
It’s okay to feel angry when this happens. That anger is your internal alarm system, alerting you that your reality is being misunderstood or minimized. It doesn’t mean you’re unkind. It means you’re paying attention.
A Calmer Frame (That Still Honors Your Truth)
If you’ve ever felt caught between wanting to scream and wanting to preserve a relationship, you’re in good company. Here’s one way to reframe it:
Try seeing the comment not as a comparison, but as a confession.
A confession that they don’t know what to say. That they’re scared of your pain. That they’re reaching for the closest thing they can find to bridge the silence.
Seen through this lens, their words become less about equating their loss with yours and more about their yearning to connect—even clumsily.
This reframing doesn’t mean excusing it. It means choosing not to carry their ignorance any farther than you have to.
What You Might Say
If you have the energy, you might respond with something like:
“I appreciate you trying to relate. But homicide is a very different kind of loss. It brings with it trauma, legal complexities, and a whole layer of violation that’s hard to put into words.”
Or simply:
“Thank you for trying. I’m not in a place where I can explain it right now, but I hope someday you’ll understand more.”
Or say nothing at all. You don’t owe anyone an education in grief.
In Closing
People will continue to say the wrong thing. And we will continue to wish they wouldn’t. But in the space between their words and our wounds, we can breathe. We can choose what to carry, and what to let pass through.
Because even when comfort misses the mark, you are still entitled to compassion—and to peace.
