When Words Do More Harm Than Good
- Michelle Taschereau
- May 13
- 4 min read
This topic has come up in so many conversations lately. Not just in healthcare , though it’s loud there, but in education, in coaching, and honestly, in just regular day-to-day conversations.
The language we use with others matters. More than we realize.
I’ve been thinking about it a lot, especially in the context of person-centered care, which is at the heart of the work I do. It’s why I built an entire module on this in the Compass Professional Development course.
Because the way we speak can either lift someone up or slowly take them apart. And most of us don’t even realize the weapons we are using.
The words that changed everything
Not long ago, I sat with someone who had recently sustained a serious injury. They were sharing how, early in their recovery, a specialist told them plainly:
“You probably won’t walk again.”
That’s it. No room for curiosity. No acknowledgment of the unknown. No follow-up like, "Let’s focus on what’s possible for you.”
They were young. Just starting to process their situation. And those six words stayed with them longer than any medical update ever did.
But here’s the thing: 10 months later, they were walking. Not easily. Not without effort. But they were walking and beginning to reclaim their life.
That sentence didn’t just hurt, it nearly stopped them from trying.
And I wish I could say it was rare. But it’s not.
We've seen it happen again and again
I’ve known someone who was tube-fed and nearly paralyzed for two years, who went on to walk and eat independently in just a few months once the right support and motivation showed up.
Another client with a severe brain injury, who was told they would never drive again. Now they have their license and their independence back.
None of these stories were expected. But they happened. It wasn’t easy, but they did it.
And it made me realize something I’ve felt for a long time: We don’t actually know what others are capable of. And in many cases, we don’t even know what we’re capable of.
So why do we speak like we do?
We’ve seen a hundred cases that look just like this. Same symptoms. Same scan results. Same recovery timelines. So we start to believe we know how this story ends.
We generalize. We think we’re being practical. We tell ourselves we’re helping by trying not to give false hope.
But in trying to avoid giving false hope, we often take away all hope.
We stop seeing the person in front of us. We forget to ask what drives them, what gives them meaning, what they care about most. We don’t pause long enough to remember this is a human being with their own path.
And when we speak from our past experiences instead of what’s still possible, we place limits that don’t belong to them.
We mean well. But it can do real harm.

This isn't just about healthcare
This shows up in schools when a teacher says a student “just isn’t academic.” It shows up in parenting, in coaching, in friendships, when someone says, "That’s not realistic." or "You’re not really the type of person who would do that."
We box people in based on our own beliefs and experiences.
But those are our limits. They shouldn’t become someone else’s.
What if we said it differently?
What if that doctor had said: "This will be a tough road, but I’ve seen people surprise us. Let’s see what’s possible for you.”
What if we slowed down, got curious, and remembered that every person has something inside them we can’t measure?
What if we made space, not predictions?
How to check yourself before you speak
This has been a huge reflection for me. I’ve had to unlearn a lot over the years. And continue to do so. We’re human. We don’t always get it right. And we have to show ourselves some compassion. We don’t know what we don’t know. But once we know, we can’t pretend we don't.
So if you want to do better for your clients, your kids, your partner, even yourself, start here:
Before you speak to someone else, ask:
Am I assuming I know how this will go?
Am I speaking from my past or their present?
Have I taken the time to understand what matters to them?
Would I say this to someone I love?
Will this encourage or discourage action?
Am I creating space for hope — or fear?
What are my beliefs around this topic and are they limiting?
Am I leading with assumptions or curiosity?
And ask yourself:
Where do I limit myself with language?
What old beliefs am I still carrying that might not be true anymore?
Who told me I couldn’t and did I ever stop to question it?
What would I try if I truly believed it was possible?

When we see potential, they often Do too
Something beautiful happens when we choose to believe in someone.
When we hold space for possibility — even if we don’t have all the answers — that belief has energy.It lands in the room. It lands in them.
It’s often subtle. Quiet.But I’ve seen people straighten up. Make eye contact. Try something new — just because someone believed they could.
They don’t need guarantees.They just need to know they’re not being written off.
Most people don’t need us to promise a perfect outcome. They just need us to stay open enough to help them try.
When we see their potential, they often start to see it too.
Final thought
We can’t always know what someone’s outcome will be. But we can decide to meet them with compassion, curiosity, and belief.
Language is energy. It can wound or it can heal.
It can shut people down or open them up to something new.
So let’s be intentional with our words.
Let’s stop deciding what people can or can’t do, and give them the dignity to find out for themselves, with our support and compassion.
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To learn more about the Compass professional development course visit our site page HERE.
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