When someone opens up about their pain, especially the kind that lives deep in the heart—shame, grief, trauma, despair—our natural instinct is to fix. To offer advice. To find a silver lining. To reassure them that it’s “not so bad.” But while those reactions may be well-intentioned, they often miss the mark.
What people in pain most need isn’t a solution.
They need presence.
They need to feel seen.
And most of all, they need to feel believed.
The Neuroscience of Being Heard
Let’s talk about what happens in the brain when someone shares their pain and feels dismissed—or held.
When someone is vulnerable and opens up, the limbic system—the emotional brain—activates. In particular, the amygdala, which governs the fight, flight, or freeze response, can become hyperactive, especially in trauma survivors. If their pain is minimized or met with disbelief, the brain perceives that as another threat. It reinforces feelings of isolation, shame, and danger.
On the flip side, when someone responds with empathy—especially with warm, attuned body language, steady eye contact, and soothing tone—the ventral vagal pathway of the parasympathetic nervous system is engaged. This part of the polyvagal system helps calm the body and create a sense of safety. The presence of a compassionate witness regulates the nervous system. It’s the co-regulation that many people never had in childhood—and desperately need as adults.
When someone says “I hear you,” and really means it, the brain releases oxytocin, the bonding hormone, which helps reduce cortisol (stress hormone) and strengthens emotional connection. In that moment, a person may feel—perhaps for the first time—that they are not alone. That they matter. That their story has weight.
Why the Urge to “Fix” Can Be Harmful
Many of us are uncomfortable with another person’s pain. We feel helpless, or we worry we’re responsible for making it better. But pain is not a problem to solve. It’s an experience to witness.
Saying things like:
- “At least it wasn’t worse.”
- “You’re strong, you’ll get through it.”
- “Everything happens for a reason.”
… may sound supportive, but they often make the speaker feel unheard. These are examples of emotional invalidation—a form of micro-dismissal that can retraumatize someone who already doubts their reality.
From a psychological standpoint, minimizing someone’s pain bypasses the vital process of emotional integration. To heal, a person must feel and express their experience. When someone shuts that down—even gently—it interrupts the brain’s ability to process and file the memory as “past.” The pain remains active, unresolved, and locked in the nervous system.
The Therapeutic Power of Holding Space
Holding space means allowing someone to be exactly where they are, without pressure to change, explain, or justify.
Therapists are trained to sit in the discomfort. But we can all practice this in everyday life. You don’t need clinical skills to be present. You just need to:
- Listen without interrupting.
- Validate without questioning.
- Reflect back their truth without trying to correct it.
Even simple phrases like:
- “That sounds incredibly painful.”
- “I can’t imagine what that’s like, but I’m here.”
- “You don’t have to go through this alone.”
… can be life-saving. Literally. Numerous studies on suicidality and complex trauma show that what often keeps someone alive is not a grand intervention, but the consistent experience of being emotionally held.
You Don’t Need to Understand to Be Present
One of the biggest barriers to empathy is the belief that we must relate to someone’s pain in order to support them. But empathy is not about sameness—it’s about connection.
You may never understand what it’s like to live through domestic violence, depression, or racial trauma. But you can understand fear. You can understand loneliness. You can recognize the human need for love and validation.
You don’t need to say the perfect thing. In fact, you don’t need to say much at all.
Sometimes, the most profound healing happens when someone sits beside us in silence and doesn’t look away.
What “I Hear You” Really Means
When you say, “I hear you,” you’re doing so much more than acknowledging words. You’re saying:
- Your emotions make sense.
- I don’t need to change your story to be with you in it.
- You don’t have to be alone in this anymore.
And for someone on the edge, for someone who has been silenced, gaslit, or told for years that they’re “too sensitive” or “too much,” those three words might be the lifeline they cling to.
They might be the reason they stay.
The reason they speak again.
The reason they begin to heal.
In Closing: A Call to Be Still, Not to Solve
We live in a world obsessed with productivity, solutions, and action. But in the realm of human suffering, sometimes the most radical act is to pause. To lean in. To listen without flinching.
So, the next time someone shares their pain, resist the urge to rescue. Resist the impulse to explain it away. Let their discomfort be safe in your presence.
Because in that space—where nothing is fixed, but everything is witnessed—healing begins.
— Linda C J Turner
Trauma Therapist | Neuroscience & Emotional Intelligence Practitioner | Advocate for Women’s Empowerment
