I say: “My son hasn’t spoken to me for a long time.”
The response I get is: “It is what it is."
I say: “I’m anxious about my blood test results.”
The response I get is: “It is what it is.”
I say: “Some part of me regrets never having had children.”
The response I get is: “It is what it is.”
I say: “My cat has kidney disease, and the vet says it’s time to let her go. I’m sad.”
The response I get is: “It is what it is.”
“My mother’s memory is fading, and I’m worried.”
The response I get is: “It is what it is.”
In each of these situations, I express a feeling or concern. I’m exposing a vulnerable …
I say: “My son hasn’t spoken to me for a long time.”
The response I get is: “It is what it is."
I say: “I’m anxious about my blood test results.”
The response I get is: “It is what it is.”
I say: “Some part of me regrets never having had children.”
The response I get is: “It is what it is.”
I say: “My cat has kidney disease, and the vet says it’s time to let her go. I’m sad.”
The response I get is: “It is what it is.”
“My mother’s memory is fading, and I’m worried.”
The response I get is: “It is what it is.”
In each of these situations, I express a feeling or concern. I’m exposing a vulnerable part of my life. And rather than being met with empathy and understanding, I receive a formulaic response that feels like a dismissive shrug.
Is it just me, or is there something about “It is what it is” that leaves you feeling unheard and empty?
Feeling Invalidated
I understand the intention behind these words. We do need to accept life as it is. Fighting reality can keep us spinning our wheels and deepen our suffering.
True enough. But when I’m hurting, fearful, or upset, I don’t need a faceplant into life’s cold realities. I don’t need to be told what’s already obvious. Not super helpful. What I want is for my feelings to be heard and understood. I want kindness and empathy. I want to feel a connection so I’m not so alone with painful feelings.
Research supports this. One study found that perceived invalidation—sensing that others do not acknowledge or accept your emotional experience—is associated with higher levels of psychological distress. Comments that gloss over our feelings can leave us feeling rejected or isolated, while signals of care and interest help us regulate our emotions and feel less alone.
A Conversation Stopper
By sharing our feelings about a pet dying, a relative declining, or a frightening health concern, we’re opening our heart. We’re trusting that our vulnerability will be met with gentle presence, kindness, and care. Even a silent, compassionate nod can help.
What we don’t need is a blunt reminder about the harsh realities of life—a seemingly clever response that shuts down the conversation.
Hearing “It is what it is” is equivalent to hearing:
- Just get over it.
- Let’s talk about something else.
- This makes me uncomfortable.
- I don’t know how to respond—so let’s move on.
Rather than stopping the conversation—and perhaps leaving us with a sense of shame or hurt for having opened our heart—here are some responses that keep it alive and connected:
- I’m really sorry to hear that.
- That sounds really scary (or sad).
- I’m here if you want to say more.
- Thanks for trusting me with that.
- That really sucks. How are you doing with that?
An essential communication skill is responding to another person’s suffering with presence. Offering some formulaic response does not encourage a deeper dialogue or sharing. What helps keep the conversation—and the connection—alive is pausing, letting in what you’re hearing, noticing how it lands in you, and extending simple empathy and kindness.
If you think I’m being too picky and you’re unhappy with my viewpoint, there’s only one thing I can say—with a smile: It is what it is.
© John Amodeo
References
Amodeo, J. (2025). The Power of Gentle Presence: Insights for Inner Peace and Deeper Relationships. New Haven, CT: The Stephen John Press.