“Don’t Speak Ill of the Dead” Is B.S.—And It’s Time We Talk About Why

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When someone dies, our society encourages us to default to polite euphemisms, glowing tributes, and carefully filtered memories. We soften sharp edges, rewrite entire histories, and strip away complexity in the name of “respect.”

But for many grievers—especially those mourning someone who was abusive, absent, estranged, or toxic—this cultural norm can feel like a form of emotional gaslighting.

The phrase “never speak ill of the dead” is everywhere. It gets tossed around at funerals, in family conversations, and even in therapy rooms and grief support circles. And while it may seem like a call for dignity or decorum, it often serves a much darker purpose.

It silences the living.

It protects abusers.

It erases harm.

And it makes grief even harder than it already is.

Before we go any further: I’m not an expert on abuse or trauma. I’m a grief coach who works with people navigating all kinds of loss, including the loss of relationships that were difficult, damaging, or complicated. What I can speak to—with certainty—is this: Grief is not always tidy, peaceful, or rooted in love. Sometimes, grief is mixed with rage, betrayal, trauma, or relief. And we need to make room for all of it.

The Origins of the Phrase “Don’t Speak Ill of the Dead”

The idea that we shouldn't speak poorly of the dead dates back to ancient Greece. The phrase De mortuis nil nisi bonum translates to: “Of the dead, [say] nothing but good.” Originally, this was meant to discourage public slander after death—a kind of last rite of social protection.

But in modern times, the phrase has morphed into something more insidious. It’s no longer just about preventing gossip or preserving dignity; it’s now often used to silence real, lived experiences of harm.

Why “Never Speak Ill of the Dead” Advice Is Hurtful to Grievers

If you’re someone who was harmed by a person who died, this societal rule reinforces a damaging idea: Your pain is less important than preserving the image of someone who’s no longer here.

Here’s how that plays out in real life:

• Survivors feel gaslit by people who insist the dead person “did their best” or “meant well.”

• Estranged family or friends are guilted into attending funerals and pretending they’re grieving someone who abused or abandoned them.

• Mourners in toxic relationships struggle to process mixed emotions—grief and rage, loss and relief—because there’s no socially acceptable space to talk about it.

• People in communities of faith or cultural communities are pressured to forgive, minimize, or spiritually bypass their loss in the name of “keeping the peace” or “remaining in good standing with god.”

But let me say this clearly: Grief doesn't become more sacred by lying about the dead. It becomes sacred by honoring the full truth—even when that truth is uncomfortable.

Even if your dead person wasn’t someone you would refer to as an abuser or toxic person, there are things they probably said or did (or didn’t say or didn’t do) that hurt. You are allowed to speak those truths out loud just as much as someone who was forced to endure years of terror or violence.

For instance, I publicly share that my mom died without accepting my identity as a queer person. Many of our last conversations were fights about whether I was going to be in heaven with my family or in hell for being bisexual. While I’ve found my own path to forgiveness regarding my mom’s words and actions, talking about her dying with unfinished business between us and a sense that I wasn’t loved “all the way for all of me” has helped me process and cope with the grief of her dying.

Clients and students I’ve worked with share similar stories about family, friends, and loved ones who said or did hurtful things in life. I often say, if we live long enough, it’s inevitable that we’ll be hurt by others and hurt others—whether we intend to or not. And when it comes to grief, it’s normal to mourn a lack of resolution, a failure to understand one another, a physical or emotional distance, or simply the sense that you weren’t seen or heard. Telling the truth about the ways in which we were hurt by someone who died can help us not only grieve the parts of them we love or miss, but the parts of them that were imperfect, destructive, or simply absent.

Real Obituaries That Dared to “Speak Ill of the Dead”

In recent years, a few obituaries have gone viral not because they were sweet and sentimental—but because they were brutally honest about the person who died.

1. Kathleen Dehmlow (1938–2018)

Published in the Redwood Falls Gazette, Kathleen’s obituary sounded like a standard notice at first. But about halfway through, the obituary read:

“She abandoned her children, Gina and Jay, who were then raised by her parents… She passed away on May 31, 2018, and will now face judgment. She will not be missed by Gina and Jay, and they understand that this world is a better place without her.”

It shocked readers, but for many survivors of toxic or estranged parent relationships, it was a breath of fresh air. Someone had finally told the truth about a person who was less-than-loving in life.

The obituary was removed after just a week when many readers argued it “went too far.” Perhaps those readers believed in the myth “don’t speak ill of the dead”?

2. Leslie Ray Charping (1942–2017)

Published on the Carnes Funeral Home website, Leslie’s obituary read:

“Leslie Ray ‘Popeye’ Charping was born in Galveston on November 20, 1942 and passed away January 30, 2017, which was 29 years longer than expected and much longer than he deserved.

At a young age, Leslie quickly became a model example of bad parenting combined with mental illness and a complete commitment to drinking, drugs, womanizing and being generally offensive. Leslie enlisted to serve in the Navy, but not so much in a brave & patriotic way but more as part of a plea deal to escape sentencing on criminal charges.

Leslie’s hobbies included being abusive to his family, expediting trips to heaven for the beloved family pets and fishing, which he was less skilled with than the previously mentioned. Leslie’s life served no other obvious purpose, he did not contribute to society or serve his community and he possessed no redeeming qualities besides quick whited [sic] sarcasm which was amusing during his sober days.

With Leslie’s passing he will be missed only for what he never did; being a loving husband, father and good friend.

Leslie’s passing proves that evil does in fact die and hopefully marks a time of healing and safety for all.”

The obituary’s writer, Leslie’s daughter, explained she wanted to reclaim truth and dignity for the living—even if it meant tarnishing the memory of the dead. She told CNN affiliate KTRK in a statement: “I am happy for those that simply do not understand, this means you had good parent(s) – please treasure what you have.”

3. Linda Lernal Smith Harvey Cullum Hart Stull (1951-2023)

Published in the Three Rivers Commercial-News, Linda’s estranged daughter, Gayle Heckman, shared her personal experience of her mother’s life. She knew her as a liar on an emotional, physical, and financial level and chose to go no-contact with her mom in 1999. After finding out about her mother’s death in 2023, she wrote an obituary that included the following:

“As a mother, Lernal was violent, hateful, and cruel. She physically mentally, verbally, and financially abused Gayle.

In March of 2023, Gayle unexpectedly found out who her biological father was through a popular online DNA service. After years of deception from Lernel regarding who Gayle’s father was, Gayle and her family are navigating the waters of getting to know their paternal biological family.

This is it. Lernal will never be the mother and grandmother that she could have chosen to be to her family. That door is closed forever with her death. This is what Gayle and her family grieve, who their mother and grandmother could have been.

Lernal will not be missed by Gayle or her family. They all understand that the world is a much better place without her.”

Just like Kathleen Dehmlow’s obituary, Linda Lernal Smith Harvey Cullum Hart Stull’s obituary was removed by the newspaper after it received complaints from readers and other family members. A non-inflammatory, sanitized version replaced it. Jordan Wilcox, assistant publisher of Wilcox Newspapers, told The Detroit News that the paper was sharply criticized for removing the obituary, with many people claiming the paper’s publishers and editors were “abuse apologists.”

Other media have opened up discussion about speaking ill of the dead. I vividly remember reading Cheryl Strayed’s “baby bird” Dear Sugars column, published in The Rumpus in 2010 and the more recent book written by Nickelodeon child star Jennette McCurdy titled, I’m Glad My Mom Died. Each has served as a cathartic outlet for survivors of abuse, trauma, and violence to see themselves in others’ lives—and to feel permission to speak ill of their own dead.

The way I see it, these individuals’ comments on the lives of those who’ve died weren’t written to be meaninglessly cruel. They were written because healing often requires honesty—especially for those who have been denied honesty in life. With each new scathing obituary or tell-all memoir, a doorway to grieving more fully, more transparently, is opened.

Telling the Truth Doesn’t Make You Cruel

Let’s be clear: speaking ill of the dead isn’t about vengeance. It’s about reclaiming narrative power when your lived experience was denied or diminished in life.

You’re not mean for telling the truth.

You're not disrespectful for naming harm.

You're not a “bad griever” for having mixed or messy feelings about someone who died.

In fact, many people say they don’t begin to “truly grieve” until they feel permission to tell the whole truth—about who someone was, what they did, and what the finality of their death means to you.

Giving Yourself Permission to Grieve Amidst Estrangement, Abuse, or Complicated Relationships

Some of the most agonizing grief I’ve witnessed has come from people grieving someone they had a complicated or painful relationship with.

Here’s what I want you to know if that’s you:

• You’re allowed to feel relieved and grieving at the same time. You can be glad that they’re dead and also heartbroken that things won’t ever be different.

• You don’t owe the dead a prettied-up, rewritten history of their life. If they wanted to be remembered fondly, they should have behaved better!

• You’re not obligated to protect their image if they didn’t protect your heart, mind, body, or spirit.

• You get to grieve the parent, partner, friend, or sibling you needed, not just the one you had.

None of these permission slips are about you being mean for the sake of being mean. They’re about allowing you to be free to feel the entirety of your grief, even the less-than-lovely parts. And they’re about expanding your definition of grief so there’s room for all of you—from the happy memories to the devastating truths.

What To Say When Someone Tells You “Don’t Speak Ill of the Dead”

When someone says “don’t speak ill of the dead,” you might respond with:

• “Telling the truth isn’t the same as speaking ill.”

• “I’m processing my grief the best I can—and that includes the hard parts.”

• “I don’t think pretending about [person’s name]’s life helps anyone heal.”

• “Grief is complicated. I’m allowed to feel more that one thing at once.”

• “If [person] wanted to be remembered with love, [he/she/they] should’ve been more loving.”

You don’t need to defend yourself. But you can advocate for your voice, your story, and your healing.

Closing Thoughts: The Truth Is Healing, Even When It Hurts

We don’t honor the dead by lying.

We don’t heal by pretending we’ve never been hurt.

We don’t make grief easier by erasing its complexity.

If the person you lost harmed you, neglected you, abandoned you, or simply wasn’t who you needed them to be—you’re still allowed to grieve them. You’re allowed to be angry. You’re allowed to ache for what could’ve or should’ve been. And most of all, you’re allowed to be honest.

Your story doesn’t stop mattering just because someone else’s ended.

Perhaps the best, most beautiful thing you can do to honor an abuser or toxic person who died is to tell the whole truth about what happened and seek healing from it in whatever ways resonate with you. Commit to making sure their legacy of pain ends with them. This not only helps you take care of your heart, but ensures that when the day comes, that you’ll be someone your family and friends speak of with love, admiration, and care.

If you’re looking for grief support surrounding a relationship that was “less than loving,” I encourage you to join us inside Life After Loss Academy, my online course + community. Together, we’ll help you name exactly what you’ve lost, tease apart emotions like guilt, regret, disappointment, and rage, and establish clear-but-kind boundaries with people who say things like, “Don’t speak ill of the dead!” You can learn more and join today here.