The Healing Power of Being Seen: Why Our Stories Need a Witness

-by Emily Childress, LCMFT, LMFT

Sometimes, the difference between being alone in a traumatic experience and beginning to heal is having another person recognize the magnitude of what happened.

Some experiences change us. And sometimes, what makes them harder to carry is not just what happened, but what happens afterward—or what doesn't.

We may try to explain how frightening or painful an experience was, hoping someone will understand, only to be met with reassurance, silence, or a quick change of subject. Over time, we can begin to feel alone in our own story.

Healing sometimes begins when another person listens, recognizes the weight of what we experienced, and helps us understand that our response makes sense.

Sometimes, we need someone else to witness our story before we can fully understand and begin to heal from it ourselves.

When Your Experience Is Over, but Your Body Hasn't Caught Up

When I was in high school, I went whitewater rafting with a group of students. At some point during the trip, I fell out of the raft.

I had a life jacket on, but the current kept pushing me underwater. Each time I tried to surface, the water pulled me back down. Eventually, the raft returned, and the rafting leader reached out an oar to help me climb back in.

I was terrified.

Although I was safely back in the raft, I was still in shock, trying to process what had happened.

But something else happened that I still remember: everyone else seemed to carry on as though nothing significant had occurred.

The trip continued. For everyone else, the moment had passed. For me, it felt as though time had stopped.

I had experienced something genuinely frightening, yet there was no meaningful pause to acknowledge what had happened or how scared I had been. I felt alone in an experience I had not been alone in physically.

I spent a long time trying to help others understand how frightening that moment had been, but no one from the group seemed to fully grasp what I had experienced.

Looking back, I wonder how different it might have felt if someone had simply stopped and said:

“That was terrifying. You were trying to get to the surface and couldn't. You must have been so scared. I'm glad you're back in the raft. Are you okay?”

Those words would not have changed what happened or erased my fear. But they might have changed how alone I felt afterward.

They would have communicated that what happened mattered, that my fear made sense, and that someone else recognized the magnitude of my experience.

Sometimes, that recognition is what we are missing.

The Difference Between Experiencing Something and Having Someone Witness It

When something frightening or overwhelming happens, the experience doesn't necessarily end when the immediate danger passes.

We may continue to feel unsettled, struggle to understand why it affected us so deeply, or question our reactions when others seem relatively unaffected.

Two people can experience the same event and walk away with very different emotional responses. One may feel relatively unaffected, while another experiences intense fear, helplessness, grief, or shame.

Neither person's response invalidates the other's.

The impact of an experience is not measured solely by how it looked from the outside.

Witnessing another person's story means more than hearing the facts. It means recognizing their emotional reality without dismissing their fear, minimizing their pain, or rushing them to move forward.

We don't have to have experienced the same thing to acknowledge that someone else's experience was significant. We don't even have to understand every detail.

Sometimes, simply knowing that another person believes us, cares about what happened, and is willing to listen can help us feel less alone.

What We Can Learn From Veterans and Their Experiences of War

The importance of being witnessed is also relevant to the experiences of military veterans returning from combat.

In two of my favorite books on the topic of PTSD, On Combat and On Killing, Dave Grossman explores the psychological realities of combat and the effects of violence. His work invites us to consider not only what people experience in dangerous situations, but also what happens when they return to ordinary life.

Some veterans come home carrying memories of danger, loss, moral conflict, and fear that are difficult to explain to people who have never experienced combat. They may find themselves in a world that wants them to move forward without fully understanding what they have been through.

Across different cultures and historical periods, communities have used storytelling, shared recognition, and rituals to welcome returning warriors. These practices vary widely, but they illustrate an important human need: having our experiences acknowledged by others.

Of course, social support alone cannot prevent post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD). PTSD has multiple contributing factors, and healing is rarely that simple.

Still, imagine returning from an experience in which you feared for your life or watched people you cared about suffer, only to discover that the people around you don't know how to respond—or would rather not hear about it.

Now imagine being welcomed by people willing to listen, even when they cannot fully understand what you endured.

That connection cannot erase the past, but it can offer something meaningful: the experience of being understood rather than isolated.

This need extends far beyond military service. It can emerge after an accident, a medical crisis, abuse, the loss of a loved one, or any experience that leaves someone feeling frightened, overwhelmed, or changed.

Sometimes, making sense of what happened begins with having another person willing to hear us.

Why Validation Matters

When someone shares a painful experience, our instinct is often to make things better. We reassure them, offer advice, or remind them that the situation is over.

We might say:

• “At least you're okay.”

• “It could have been worse.”

• “Try not to think about it.”

• “You just need to move forward.”

• “Everything happens for a reason.”

These responses are often well-intended. But when reassurance comes before acknowledgment, the unintended message may be: Your reaction is too much. It's time to move on.

Validation offers something different. It recognizes a person's emotional experience without immediately trying to correct or change it.

It might sound like:

• “That sounds terrifying.”

• “I can understand why that stayed with you.”

• “It makes sense that you felt overwhelmed.”

• “I hadn't realized how much that affected you. Thank you for telling me.”

• “I'm glad you're here, and I'm willing to listen.”

Validation doesn't mean agreeing with every interpretation or knowing exactly how someone feels. It means taking the time to recognize their experience before encouraging them to move beyond it.

We cannot always change what someone has experienced, but we can change whether they have to carry that experience alone.

How We Can Become Better Witnesses to One Another

We don't need specialized training to make a meaningful difference. Often, the most helpful thing we can offer is a willingness to slow down, listen, and acknowledge what an experience meant to someone.

1. Pause and listen.

Resist the urge to immediately offer advice or find a solution. Let the person tell their story in their own words and decide how much they want to share.

Sometimes, “I'm listening. Tell me more if you'd like” is enough.

2. Acknowledge the impact.

You don't have to exaggerate what happened or assume you know exactly how the person feels. Simply reflect what you hear.

“That sounds incredibly frightening.”

“I can see why that experience stayed with you.”

These responses communicate that you recognize the emotional weight of their story.

3. Resist minimizing or comparing.

Avoid comparing their experience to someone else's or sharing your own story before they've had a chance to feel heard. Someone else's suffering doesn't make their experience less significant.

You don't have to decide whether an event was “bad enough” to warrant a particular response. Listen to how it affected them.

4. Ask what they need.

Not everyone wants advice or wants to discuss every detail. Some people need practical help; others need time, quiet, or reassurance that they aren't alone.

Try asking:

• “Would it help to talk more about what happened, or would you rather I just sit with you?”

• “Is there something you wish people understood about that experience?”

• “What would feel most helpful right now?”

These questions respect the person's autonomy and give them a voice in their own healing.

5. Remember that you don't have to fix it.

We may feel uncomfortable when someone shares something we cannot change. But we don't have to solve the situation to be helpful.

“I can't change what happened, but I care about what you went through” may mean more than a dozen suggestions.

Being present isn't the same as being powerless.

6. Allow healing to take time.

An experience may continue to affect someone long after others have stopped thinking about it. Memories may resurface months or years later, and new understanding may emerge over time.

Don't assume that because time has passed, someone should be over it. Healing is personal, and professional support can help when the effects become difficult to manage.

7. Be willing to repair when you get it wrong.

None of us responds perfectly every time. If you realize you minimized someone's experience, you can return to the conversation.

“I've been thinking about what you told me. I don't think I fully understood how frightening that was for you, and I'm sorry I didn't give it the attention it deserved.”

We cannot change how we responded in the original moment, but we can choose to show up differently now.

What Happens When We Begin to See One Another Differently?

Imagine a veteran who no longer feels he has to hide what he experienced in combat.

Imagine someone who survived an accident and is still shaken, even though everyone else is relieved it's over.

Imagine a person who has experienced abuse and needs someone to acknowledge the harm rather than question why they didn't respond differently.

Imagine a teenager overwhelmed by something an adult considers minor, or a grieving person still struggling long after the initial expressions of sympathy have faded.

In each situation, the details differ, but the opportunity is similar.

We can create space for people to tell the truth about their experiences without requiring them to make their stories smaller or more comfortable for us to hear.

Sometimes, people don't need us to explain what happened or tell them how to feel. They need us to recognize that it mattered.

And when we cannot provide the support someone needs on our own, we can help them connect with people who can.

This is one way we build relationships and communities where people feel safe enough to be honest about their lives—and less isolated in their pain.

When the Weight of an Experience Is Difficult to Carry Alone

For some people, the effects of a frightening experience gradually fade with time and support. For others, the impact continues to interfere with sleep, relationships, daily activities, or a sense of safety.

Someone may experience intrusive memories, heightened anxiety, avoidance, emotional numbness, or a persistent feeling of being on guard. When these symptoms persist, professional support can help clarify what is happening and what treatment may be appropriate.

For individuals experiencing trauma or post-traumatic stress disorder (PTSD), therapy can offer a place to explore what happened, understand their responses, and work toward healing.

At Renewal Family Therapy, we recognize that healing isn't about forcing someone to tell their story before they're ready or telling them how they should feel. It's about working collaboratively, respecting each person's pace, and helping them find a path toward greater understanding, connection, and well-being.

We provide therapy in Missouri and Kansas, for individuals navigating trauma, PTSD, anxiety, and other difficult life experiences. EMDR therapy may also be an option for people working through distressing memories, depending on their needs and treatment goals.

Seeking help doesn't mean you're weak or that you should have moved on by now. It means what you've been carrying deserves attention and support.

If an experience continues to affect your life, you don't have to figure it out alone.

The Healing Power of Being Seen

When I think back to that whitewater rafting trip, I remember the fear of being pulled underwater and the confusion I felt when everyone else seemed to move on as though nothing had happened.

I also remember the loneliness of trying to communicate how frightening the experience had been without feeling understood.

I cannot go back and change what happened that day. But I have come to appreciate how meaningful it can be when someone pauses, listens, and acknowledges our fear.

Sometimes, the most healing thing we can offer another person isn't an answer, an explanation, or a solution. It's the willingness to witness their story—to recognize what they endured and communicate that they don't have to carry the experience alone.

We cannot undo the past for one another or guarantee that our words will take away someone's pain. But we can listen. We can acknowledge what was frightening, painful, or overwhelming. And we can resist minimizing another person's experience simply because we didn't experience it the same way.

Sometimes the difference between being alone in a traumatic experience and beginning to heal is having another person recognize the magnitude of what happened.

Perhaps one of the most meaningful things we can do for one another is become people willing to witness the stories others have been carrying—and help them feel a little less alone as they learn how to carry them.