Everything Happens For A Reason - Reassuring or Invalidating?

I grew up hearing “everything happens for a reason” a lot. My mum said it often. And like many of us do with things we hear growing up, I adopted it — believing it was a wise and helpful way to look at life.

For a long time, it was helpful. I found comfort in the idea that hard times were somehow part of a bigger plan — that the Universe was conspiring for me, not against me. That there was a reason behind the pain.

But there was always another feeling that would creep in after the reassurance. Something that didn’t sit quite right. And for years, I couldn’t put my finger on it.

It wasn’t until I started to sit more deeply with my beliefs, that I asked myself:

Do I actually believe that everything happens for a reason?

And if so, when is it true? When is it helpful? And when is it absolutely not?

Life can be brutal. Genuinely unfair. Sometimes we go through things no one should have to endure.

I’ve seen friends experience grief, loss, trauma — the kind of life events that split your world in two and leave you standing in the rubble.

And in those moments, "everything happens for a reason" is not comforting. It’s cruel.

Because if everything happens for a reason, then what? That pain was meant to happen? That suffering had to exist? That your grief is somehow justified by what it might teach you?

That you shouldn’t be angry, or broken, or devastated, because there’s a “greater purpose”?

No. Just, no.

Even if some silver lining eventually emerges, even if something beautiful comes after the pain — that doesn’t mean the pain was necessary. Or okay.

Some things simply shouldn’t have to happen. Full stop.

That said… I don’t think we need to throw the phrase out completely.

There are times when I still say it to myself. Quietly. Gently. As a way to reconnect with faith when I feel like I’m lost in the chaos. Not to bypass my pain, but to remind myself that something else might be unfolding — something I just can’t see yet.

Like when my old car died unexpectedly, and I was forced to upgrade way earlier than planned. At the time, it felt like an unsurmountable challenge with hurdle after hurdle — but that car ended up becoming part of my love story, part of my big cross-country move, part of a brand new chapter of life.

I couldn’t have seen the bigger picture in the moment. But looking back, I can trace the path. And I like holding that kind of perspective. It feels hopeful and aligned for me.

So yes — sometimes there is a bigger story unfolding. And looking for the reason after we’ve processed the pain can help us find meaning or closure. But that meaning should never be forced. And never come at the expense of our grief.

So where does that leave us?

Words are powerful. And “everything happens for a reason” is not a neutral phrase. It can soothe. Or it can sting. It can offer comfort. Or it can erase someone’s experience entirely.

If you’re going through something tough, you don’t need a reason right now. You need space. You need support. You need to be witnessed in your humanity.

The meaning can come later. Or not at all.

And if you’re supporting someone else through their tough moment — pause before you reach for a spiritual platitude. Ask yourself:

Is this for them, or is it for me?

Because sometimes the most healing thing you can offer isn’t an explanation. It’s presence.

[Looking for someone to support you through your pain without searching for a reason that it happened? Book a Soul-Led Therapy session here]