Why are we afraid to use the word “die”?

Why does the word “die” scare people?

When I wrote “Do You Look at the Sky?”, a good friend and early-years colleague gently asked if I really wanted to include that word — die. I had used it openly and without fear. Their question made me pause. It prompted deep reflection on how we use language around death, especially with children.

After much contemplation, I decided: yes, I’m keeping it in. It sat right with me.

Children need honesty. Euphemisms like passed away, gone to heaven, went to sleep, crossed over, or even put down aren’t clear. They're vague. Children don’t sugarcoat their questions — why should we sugarcoat our answers?

Children are naturally honest. Their world is direct, filled with curiosity and clear-eyed observations. Being truthful about death helps them build a healthier relationship with grief. It equips them to talk about it, ask questions, and begin to understand it — often better than we do as adults.

Society, on the other hand, tends to soften the language. We say things like “they're in a better place,” thinking it comforts the bereaved. But does it really? What’s real is: they have died. That is what happened. And acknowledging that truth can be a first step in healing.

So yes — I kept the word in the story. I didn’t run from the reality. I leaned into it, to help children process death and to support the adults reading with them, giving everyone a shared language grounded in honesty.

This reflection came up again as I wrote another story — one that spoke of plants, animals, and people. I read it aloud to my husband and son. They were shocked by how often I used the word die. “Children will be terrified,” they said.

Children fear what we teach them to fear. If we treat grief like something to hide from, they will, too. If we flinch at the word die, so will they. We model emotional avoidance rather than resilience. That’s what many of us grew up with — and what we unconsciously pass down.

We could learn so much from cultures that allow grief to be visible — that speak of the dead, sit with sorrow, and normalise mourning. Cultures where it's not shameful to cry, not awkward to talk about a loved one who’s gone, not strange to visit a grave and speak out loud.

Because the truth is this: when someone dies, they are not coming back. That’s the reality. And the only word that honestly explains the finality of that moment is die.

Use clear, honest language. Practice being comfortable with the word die. When we do that, we help children understand death in a healthier, more grounded way.

And maybe, just maybe, we help ourselves too.