How to Text Someone You Know Is Struggling (Without Making It Worse)
A viral video raised $815K for a struggling delivery driver. Most of us freeze on what to text when someone we know is going through it. Here's what helps.

A few days ago, a woman named Brittany Smith recorded a video of Richard Pulley, a 78-year-old DoorDash driver, delivering food in the cold. She posted it with a GoFundMe link. Within 48 hours, strangers raised over $815,000 for a man most of them had never met.
One message. One post. $815K.
Most of us don't have that kind of reach. But we do have something smaller and maybe just as important -- the ability to text someone we know is struggling. A friend who just lost their job. A family member going through a divorce. A coworker who's been quieter than usual. Someone who posted something on their story that made you stop scrolling.
We see these moments. We notice. And then most of us freeze. Not because we don't care. Because we're terrified of saying the wrong thing.
Why Is Texting Someone in a Hard Time So Scary?
I've frozen on these texts more times than I'd like to admit. Sitting there with the keyboard open, typing something, deleting it, typing something else, closing the app entirely. Telling myself I'll send it later. Not sending it later.
The fear is specific. It's not "I don't know what to say." It's "What if what I say makes it worse?" What if I bring up the thing they're trying not to think about? What if I sound like I'm performing caring instead of actually caring? What if my text is so awkward that it adds to their stress instead of relieving it?
That fear is real. And it's understandable. But here's what I've learned the hard way: the silence is almost always worse than an imperfect text. When you're going through something hard and nobody reaches out, the story your brain tells you is "nobody noticed" or "nobody cares." An awkward text that says "I see you and I'm here" is infinitely better than the absence that says nothing at all.
What Should You Actually Text?
There are three approaches that work, and the right one depends on your relationship with the person.
The door opener. This is for people you're close to. It's direct, it's honest, and it doesn't pretend everything is fine. "I heard about [the thing]. I'm not going to ask if you're okay because that's a dumb question right now. But I'm here."
What makes this work is that it doesn't ask them to perform being okay. "Are you okay?" is the most well-intentioned useless question in the English language. They're obviously not okay. Acknowledging that out loud is a relief.
The specific offer. This is for when you want to do something, not just say something. "I'm bringing food Thursday. What sounds good?" is a hundred times better than "Let me know if you need anything."
"Let me know if you need anything" puts the burden on the person who's already drowning. They have to figure out what they need, then ask for it, then feel guilty about asking. A specific offer removes all three steps. You've decided what you're doing. All they have to do is pick between Thai and pizza.
The no-pressure check-in. This is for acquaintances, coworkers, or people you're not sure want to hear from you. "No pressure to reply. Just want you to know I'm thinking about you and I'm around whenever."
That text costs you nothing to send and it might be the only one they receive all day. The "no pressure to reply" part is critical -- it turns the text from a demand into a gift.
What Should You Never Text Someone Who's Struggling?
Some things that feel supportive are actually the opposite. Not because you're a bad person for thinking them -- but because they land differently when you're on the receiving end.
"Everything happens for a reason." This is the number one thing people say that makes struggling people want to throw their phone. When you've just lost your job or your relationship or your health, being told there's a cosmic plan behind it feels dismissive. What to say instead: "This sucks. I'm sorry."
"At least..." At least you still have your health. At least it wasn't worse. At least you learned something. The "at least" reframe tries to silver-lining a situation that doesn't need a silver lining yet. The person needs to feel bad before they can feel better. What to say instead: "I can't imagine what this is like."
"Stay positive!" Positivity is great when someone's ready for it. It's toxic when someone is still in the middle of the hard part. Telling someone to stay positive when they're actively suffering is telling them their emotions are wrong. What to say instead: "You don't have to be positive right now. You just have to get through today."
If you're stuck on the exact phrasing -- especially for sensitive situations where tone really matters -- Vervo can help you draft something in the right register. Screenshot the conversation, pick the tone that fits, and adjust from there.
How Do You Follow Up Without Being Overbearing?
You sent the text. They didn't reply. Now what?
First -- don't panic. Silence after a supportive text is normal. People who are going through hard things often don't have the energy to respond, even to messages they appreciate. It's the same dynamic behind the shame spiral of unread texts -- the guilt of not replying makes replying feel harder, not easier. Especially to messages they appreciate, actually, because those feel like they deserve a real response and a real response requires bandwidth they don't have.
My rule of thumb: wait three days and send a short follow-up. Not "did you get my text?" Not "is everything okay?" Just a simple "Checking in. You don't have to reply -- just wanted you to see my name pop up and know someone's thinking about you."
That text does something powerful. It tells them the first message wasn't a one-time obligation. You actually meant it. You're still here. And you're not requiring anything from them in return.
If they still don't reply? Send one more in a week. Same energy. "No reply needed. Just sending this so you know I meant what I said." And then let it be. Know when to stop replying and trust that you've done your part. You've planted three seeds. You've done what a lot of people can't bring themselves to do. The door is open and they know it.
If you need help calibrating the tone of a follow-up -- especially when you're not sure how your first message landed -- that's exactly the kind of text overthinking was designed to ruin. Don't let it.
Is It Okay to Ask for Help Over Text?
This part is for the person on the other side. The one who's struggling and wondering if it's okay to reach out.
Yes. It's okay. It's more than okay.
Texting someone "I'm not doing great and I could use someone to talk to" is one of the hardest messages to send. It requires vulnerability in a format that feels permanent -- the words are right there on the screen, undeniable, impossible to play off as a joke later.
But here's the thing. The people who love you are waiting for that text. They've been wondering if you're okay. They've been wanting to reach out but weren't sure how. When you give them permission by being honest first, you're not burdening them. You're opening a door they were already standing outside of.
If you can't type it yourself -- if your thumbs freeze every time you try to be vulnerable in a text -- screenshot what you wish you could say and run it through Vervo. Sometimes you need a starting point. Sometimes the hardest part is the first three words.
The Text You've Been Meaning to Send
You already know who it is. You've been thinking about them while reading this. Maybe you saw something on their story last week. Maybe you heard through a mutual friend. Maybe you just have a feeling.
Send the text. Today. It doesn't have to be perfect. It doesn't have to be long. It just has to exist.
"Hey. I've been thinking about you. No pressure on anything -- just wanted you to know."
That's twenty words. It takes ten seconds to type. And for someone who's been feeling invisible in the middle of something hard, it might be the most important message in their inbox.
Don't wait for the perfect words. The imperfect ones, sent now, are worth more than the perfect ones you never send.