To help someone going through a crisis, use these 7 words

Andrea Muraskin | November 29, 2024

When writer Kelly Corrigan’s daughters became tweens, Corrigan stood ready to help them with the troubles and travails of that delicate time. If one of her girls would came home from school angry and upset, she’d come up with ideas for how to deal with bullying, rejection, or whatever the problem was.

It didn’t always go over well: “Their emotion would change, and they would go from something raw to something kind of tired and dismissive and then they would wander away,” Corrigan, host of the PBS interview series Tell Me More, recounted on NPR’s TED Radio Hour.

One day her daughter Georgia called, crying. Corrigan happened to be in a car with a friend who was training to become a therapist, so she put the phone on speaker.

Georgia said she hated sixth grade. All the girls in class were turning on her for no reason.

Corrigan’s friend whispered: “Say ‘tell me more.’ ” Corrigan echoed it to her daughter: “Tell me more.”

Georgia went on complaining.

“Say ‘that sounds really hard,'” whispered the therapist-in-training. “That sounds so hard,” Corrigan said to Georgia.

“It is!” Georgia replied. And instead of shutting down like usual, the sixth-grader continued to open up to her mom. Corrigan says this different way of communicating, though simple, was shockingly effective.

When a family member or friend is struggling emotionally, using phrases like these can unlock a deeper connection, and it’s far more powerful than giving advice, says Corrigan.

Corrigan has spent years talking about families — her own and many others — on her PBS show, her podcast and in her four bestselling books. She gave a TED Talk about having the courage to respond with humility when a loved one is in crisis, which requires putting aside our own ideas about how to fix their problems.

Here are some of the lessons she offered on a recent episode of TED Radio Hour.

1. Hold off on offering a solution

Corrigan says it can be “kind of humiliating” if someone brings their problem to you and you just solve it right away. “Because, basically, the underlying message of that is what are you so upset about? Like, it’s not that hard to figure this out,” says Corrigan.

Now when a loved one is struggling, she pictures them picking through a jewelry box full of tangled up necklaces, bracelets and earrings. “And there is a tremendous satisfaction in separating all those items once and for all,” she says. Corrigan says the person who’s struggling should get to feel that satisfaction of solving their problem, not you as the helper.

“You have to decide their needs are paramount,” she says.

2. Use these seven words instead

To be the most helpful to the people in your life who are trying to open up to you, you just need to say a few phrases, says Corrigan:

“Tell me more.”
“Go on …”
“What else?”

These words give them space to tell their story, to feel loved and accepted no matter how heavy the things are that they want to share. “You can get pretty far in life just with those seven words,” Corrigan says.

3. Practice emotional hospitality

Love is not one size fits all, Corrigan says. For example, if you’re caring for children, remember that not all kids like to be hugged (or adults for that matter). “If I were to custom design a feeling for you, what would the shape of it be? What would the sound of it be?” Corrigan asks.

But don’t pressure yourself to say just the right thing when someone is unburdening their pain, she says. Instead, practice “emotional hospitality,” where you create a comforting environment with your presence, inviting the other person to open up: “Tell me something. I’m here.”

And then, she says, really listen. “So few people love to listen,” Corrigan notes. “Most people, it seems, love to talk.”

4. Tune in — love can be quiet and still

Corrigan says when the going gets tough for a loved one, she gets a strong urge to jump into action mode. “Everything in me wants to grab a clipboard, make a to-do list and start calendaring appointments,” she says.

One day when her father was days from the end of his life, Corrigan noticed he seemed agitated. Fighting the desire to call a nurse or tell him to go to sleep, she just sat down and tried to tune in to his mood. And he started opening up about his life’s regrets, small things that were still weighing on him. He didn’t visit his brother-in-law enough when he was sick, for instance. He should have named a kid after his lacrosse coach who helped him avoid getting kicked out of college.

Instead of reassuring him or minimizing his misgivings, she listened.

The idea, she says, is to telegraph to them that “I’m going to absorb this thing with you. I’m going to mirror your seriousness about it. And maybe that can let you rest.” And it worked. “He leaned back on his pillow and said, I’m good, Lovey. That’s good for today,” Corrigan remembers.

This was a gift to her, she says. It gave her a chance to love him fully, just as he needed to be at that moment.

“Personally, I thought love meant action. I had no idea it could be so still.”

Transcript:

MANOUSH ZOMORODI, HOST:

It’s the TED Radio Hour from NPR. I’m Manoush Zomorodi.

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)

ZOMORODI: Writer Kelly Corrigan’s daughters are grown now. But back when they were tweens, she noticed something. If they came home from school really mad or upset and she tried to help them, they would just turn off.

KELLY CORRIGAN: Like, their emotion would change, and they would go from something raw to something kind of tired and dismissive and then they would wander away. And I would think, what just happened? Like, they told me they were upset about X. We brainstormed solutions to X, and they seemed so unsatisfied with my parental interference.

ZOMORODI: This really bothered Kelly until one day when she was on a road trip with her old college roommate, Tracy.

CORRIGAN: We were going back to some reunion, and she was in graduate school to become a therapist.

ZOMORODI: As they drove, Kelly’s daughter Georgia called.

CORRIGAN: And she was very upset about something. And Tracy was sitting next to me, and I put the phone on speaker because I really wanted Tracy to hear the drama in Georgia’s voice and also maybe to, like, Cyrano de Bergerac me – like, to just tell me what to say.

ZOMORODI: Georgia was crying. She hated sixth grade. All the girls in class were turning on her for no reason.

CORRIGAN: So Georgia said her things, and then Tracy said, (whispering) tell me more. Say tell me more. And then I’d say, oh, tell me more. And then Georgia would tell me more. And then Tracy would say, (whispering) that sounds really hard. And then I’d say, oh, that sounds so hard. She’d say, it is. And Georgia would go on, go on, go on. And then Tracy would say, (whispering) what do you want to do about it? And I’d say, so what do you want to do about it?

And it was like acting. I was completely trusting Tracy’s advice. And it was uncanny to me how effective it was. And what it taught me is that I think it’s kind of humiliating when you bring a problem to someone and they solve it, like, lickety split. Because, basically, the underlying message of that is, what are you so upset about? Like, it’s not that hard to figure this out. And that’s a terrible feeling – versus the joy of, like, untying the knots yourself. So I always picture someone picking through, like, a giant jewelry box full of necklaces and earrings and bracelets and brooches, and everything’s all tangled up.

And there is a tremendous satisfaction in separating all those items once and for all. And so either you’re going to let the person have that satisfaction or you’re going to steal it. And once I heard myself phrase it that way – that it’s stealing satisfaction – that helped me stay on the right side of things. Like, don’t you dare solve this for them. Don’t grab that. That’s greedy. Like, let her solve it.

That’s really the call here. And that’s brave because you are putting aside your own methods and your own sort of delivery mechanisms that are most comfortable for you. You have to decide that their needs are paramount, that you are not trying to serve both needs at the same time and you’re definitely not trying to serve your own needs over theirs.

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)

ZOMORODI: We want to fix problems, win the argument, make friends with the tap of a screen. But what does it mean to truly be close to someone, and how can we have the courage to put ourselves and our fears aside? Today on the show – ideas about being brave in relationships, from dealing with family baggage to a scientifically proven way to stay married, and from one of the most famous relationships therapists of all, wisdom on how to make friends in what can feel like a lonely world. Kelly Corrigan believes that to be the most helpful to the most important people in your life, you just need to say a few phrases – tell me more, go on, what else?

CORRIGAN: Those are the seven words. And you can get pretty far in life just with those seven words.

ZOMORODI: She spent years talking about families – her own and many others – on her PBS show, her podcast and in her four bestselling books. And Kelly thinks that when it comes to a crisis, that is when we most need that quiet, soft kind of bravery.

(SOUNDBITE OF TED TALK)

CORRIGAN: Inside every crisis you think you might be ready for are 100 dirty surprises that are not in the playbook.

ZOMORODI: Here she is on the TED stage.

(SOUNDBITE OF TED TALK)

CORRIGAN: I had Stage 3 cancer in my 30s, and I can tell you that following the chemo schedule didn’t take nearly as much courage as admitting to my husband that sex felt less sexy after my boobs, which were once a real strong suit for me…

(LAUGHTER)

CORRIGAN: …Were made weird and uneven by a surgeon’s knife. This bravery I’m talking about might even be better understood if you look at the smaller moments of injury in family life when there’s not really an answer, or it might be your fault, or it might remind you of something you’d rather forget, or because people are so suggestible and the wrong tone or expression or phrasing might somehow make things worse. Say your kid was dropped from a group text. They were in it. They mattered. They belonged. And then poof. Or your husband blew the big deal at work, or your mom won’t wear the diapers that would really help her get through mahjong on Wednesdays.

(LAUGHTER)

CORRIGAN: And how should we calibrate the exquisite bravery to respond productively when someone in our family looks at us and says do I know you? I weigh myself before and after every meal. I hear voices. I steal. I’m using again. I bought a gun. I stopped taking the medication. I can’t stop making online bets. Sometimes I wonder if more life is really worth all this effort.

Bravery is the great guts to move closer to the wound as composed as a war nurse holding eye contact and saying these seven words. Tell me more. What else? Go on. That’s how the braves shine. That’s all they do. They say tell me more. What else? Go on – even if they’re scared of what might happen next, even if they have no training or experience to prepare them for this moment, even if it’s late and they have an early flight.

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)

ZOMORODI: The theme through your books, through your talk, is about how important it is to be present, to listen in our family relationships, however you want to define family. But it is so hard to do when you are tired, when you’re trying to get dinner on the table, when you feel like, oh, my God, my kid is, like, complaining again. Like, do you know how much it costs to send you to that camp? What advice do you have for being present in a – I guess a doable way?

CORRIGAN: I do think that it speaks to the inconvenience of vulnerability. Like anyone who has children knows that they often come in right as you’re turning off your light to go to sleep…

ZOMORODI: Yep.

CORRIGAN: …And they want to tell you something. Or you’re pulling up to the airport or there’s some imminent drop off coming. And I think that bravery requires a setting aside of self and a setting aside of ego, such that your whole being, everything you’ve got – cognitively and emotionally – is available to the other person to lean on. If a person is in front of you telling you I want to say all these horrible things, I want to tell you how awful I feel. Like, can you even hear it? Can you absorb that? And are you signaling that you can? Because another thing I’ve thought about a lot over the years is that the job is – if you really love someone, the job is to make sure they know it. Which requires a little customization. You know, not every kid wants to be hugged…

ZOMORODI: Right.

CORRIGAN: …Repeatedly or sent cards in the mail. Like, the whole love languages thing is so valuable here, which is what would it look like? If I were to custom design a feeling for you, what would the shape of it be? What would the sound of it be? Don’t put too much pressure on yourself to say the right thing. I’m so thrilled by the idea of that kind of emotional hospitality where you’re like, I – tell me something. I’m here. I’m listening. So few people love to listen. Most people, it seems, love to talk.

(SOUNDBITE OF TED TALK)

CORRIGAN: Here’s two things the brave don’t do. They don’t take over and become the hero. In families, bravery is mostly just sitting there. Personally, I thought love meant action. I had no idea it could be so still. When things get hairy for one of my people, everything in me wants to grab a clipboard, make it to-do list and start calendaring appointments. And all that can accidentally put us center stage – no longer the coach or the minister but rather one of the afflicted. But these gritty endurance types I’ve been admiring have no self and no needs and no agenda or at least they know how to override all that for the main character who is not us.

The second thing the brave don’t do – leave or hide inside work or hobbies or some other socially acceptable business. In my worst moments, when sitting on my hands is just unbearable, I have dreamed of going to get an MFA in Paris because, if I can’t help, why do I have to watch? It would be nice to leave and start again. Hardly anyone who’s been in a long marriage hasn’t at least wondered how it is that the object of their desire has become so burpy and farty.

(LAUGHTER)

CORRIGAN: Sometimes I see myself naked, stretch marks from pregnancies, scars from cancer surgeries, other things that I don’t feel you need to be visualizing right about now…

(LAUGHTER)

CORRIGAN: …And I think it’s a miracle that man stays with me. But, you know, he’s not untouched by time either.

(LAUGHTER)

CORRIGAN: And that’s just the physical. I mean, who here hasn’t wanted to be with someone who hasn’t seen us eating on the toilet or b****ing at the Comcast guy. Leaving behind our own humiliating history, maybe with the nice person we met at art school in Paris.

(LAUGHTER)

CORRIGAN: It’s an option. People take it. The brave hang around. They’re available and ready to bear witness.

ZOMORODI: In a moment, Kelly Corrigan explains how she applied this same philosophy to the final days of her father’s life. On the show today, bravery in relationships. I’m Manoush Zomorodi, and you’re listening to the TED Radio Hour from NPR. Stay with us.

ZOMORODI: It’s the TED Radio Hour from NPR. I’m Manoush Zomorodi.

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)

ZOMORODI: On the show today, what it takes to be brave in relationships. We were just hearing from writer Kelly Corrigan on why sometimes the bravest thing you can do for the people you love is nothing at all.

You ended up applying this same philosophy in one of the last conversations you had with your father. Can you tell us that story too?

CORRIGAN: Yeah. So my dad was just days away from dying, and he was completely willing to have me sit in bed with him, to hold hands with him for hours. Like, he was telling me in the way that he was responding to my outreach that, like, this is it, and we should – (crying) sorry – we should gobble up this time that we have together. And he felt more or less at peace. He was 84 years old. He’d had a spectacular time while he was here.

But there was this day where he felt kind of agitated. And you could only see it if you were very quiet and very tuned in, which I consider to be an act of bravery – to not rush around and be moving things around on his nightstand and telling him to go to sleep and bossing people around, but rather just sliding in next to them and mirroring their mood. And so I was looking at his forehead, and it was all wrinkled up and tight. And he said, ah, Lovey, I should have gone to see your Uncle Tommy more.

(SOUNDBITE OF MUSIC)

CORRIGAN: So Uncle Tommy is my mother’s brother. He died at 46 of a brain tumor. My dad loved this guy. And it had been a long time. It had been maybe 40 years since Tommy died. But right then and there, he had this discomfort with his failure to give more to Uncle Tommy. And instead of saying, oh, come on, you were an amazing brother-in-law to him, I said, tell me more. And he said, I should have named a kid after my lacrosse coach. And it was like, what? Why? Tell me more. And he said, he was so important to me. I went to college on a scholarship, and I almost blew it. I was partying too much. I didn’t take it seriously. I was late to practice. And the guy took me by the shoulders and said, you got one more week on this team, or I’m sending you home, and he shaped me right up. And I was like, what else? Like, is there more?

And of course, there was. And so we spent the day reviewing these little regrets that he had that were so – to my mind, so innocent. I mean, it was almost like the mood of him was that he was going to tell me he had cheated on my mother…

ZOMORODI: (Laughter).

CORRIGAN: …Or that he had an illegitimate child or that he had embezzled. But the fact of it was very small to me, to my eye. But, of course, that goes to this larger point, which is it doesn’t really matter what it looks like to my eye. Like, whatever’s weighing on you is weighing on you. And it was like, I’m going to hear you. I’m going to absorb this thing with you. I’m going to mirror your seriousness about it. And maybe that can let you rest. And it did. And he leaned back on his pillow and said, I’m good, Lovey. That’s good for today.

ZOMORODI: What a gift you could give him by doing that.

CORRIGAN: Well, yes, I suppose, but also such a gift to me to get to give it. Like, there’s – it’s so hard. It seems almost impossible, really, to love someone effectively and productively and sufficiently in that moment. And he was offering me a way. And I took it. And I’ll always have it.

(SOUNDBITE OF TED TALK)

CORRIGAN: The final act, then, of the truly brave is leaning back and letting them go. The reward for all this bravery is a full human experience, complete with all the emotions at maximum dosage, where we have been put to great use and found an other-centric love that is complete in its expression and its transmission. The reward is to end up soft and humble, empty and in awe, knowing that of all the magnificence we have beheld from cradle to grave, the most eye-popping was interpersonal.

So here’s to anyone who notices and reads between the lines, who asks the right questions, but not too many, who takes notes at the doctor’s office and wipes butts young and old, who listens, holds and stays. We who, untrained and always a little off guard, still dare to do love, to be love. That’s brave. Thank you.

(APPLAUSE)

ZOMORODI: That was Kelly Corrigan. Her latest book is called, “Tell Me More.” You can see her full talk at ted.com.