Holding Space for Others: Sitting with Discomfort Without Fixing

Someone you care about is struggling. They’re telling you about their pain, their fear, their confusion. Your instinct kicks in: fix it. Give advice. Share your similar experience. Offer perspective. Make it better somehow.

So you say “at least…” or “have you tried…” or “when that happened to me…” And you watch them shut down. Pull back. Stop sharing. You meant to help. But what they needed wasn’t solutions. They needed you to just sit with them in it.

Holding space is one of the hardest things to do in communication because it requires you to tolerate discomfort without resolving it. To be present with someone’s pain without trying to make it go away. To listen without fixing, relating, or redirecting.

Most of us were never taught this skill. We learned to fix problems, not hold emotion. To offer advice, not witness. To make ourselves useful by doing something, not by simply being present.

Why holding space matters

When someone is in pain, what they need most is to not be alone in it. To feel seen, heard, and understood. To know that their experience matters and that someone can handle being with them in it.

What they don’t need is your fix. Your story. Your minimization of their pain. Your reassurance that it’s not that bad. Even when those come from love and a desire to help, they send a message: your pain makes me uncomfortable, so I need to make it go away.

Joshua Graves, author of “We Need to Talk,” described holding space simply: “Sitting and listening, even when uncomfortable, without cutting emotion.” Not rescuing. Not redirecting. Just being there.

You’re not a blank wall. You’re a human present with another human. The key is not making their moment about you. He clarified an important nuance:

Holding space doesn’t mean no opinions. You can have an emotional response while listening.
Episode 0006: Joshua Graves

When someone shares something vulnerable and you immediately match it with your own story, you’ve shifted the focus. When you rush to fix it, you’ve told them their feelings are a problem to solve. When you minimize it, you’ve said it’s not as real or valid as it feels to them.

Holding space says: this is real. I see you. I’m here. That’s it. And often, that’s everything.

What holding space actually looks like

Holding space isn’t passive. It’s active presence without action. It’s full attention without agenda. It’s being with someone without trying to change what’s happening.

It looks like silence when silence is needed. Like “tell me more” instead of “here’s what you should do.” Like “that sounds really hard” instead of “at least you have…”

It looks like sitting with tears without rushing to stop them. Tolerating long pauses without filling them. Resisting the urge to make the person feel better because their discomfort triggers yours.

Graves noted that knowing when to share your own feelings versus when it becomes deflection is nuanced: “When to share your anger vs when it’s deflection. Making it about yourself is unhealthy deflection.”

The test is simple: does what you’re about to say serve them or serve your discomfort? If you’re about to share your story because you’re uncomfortable with the silence, that’s deflection. If you’re offering advice because their pain makes you anxious, that’s not holding space.

Signs you’re not holding space

You immediately offer solutions before they’ve finished sharing
You interrupt with “me too” stories that shift focus to you
You minimize their experience with “at least” or “it could be worse”
You rush to reassure them everything will be fine
You change the subject when emotion gets intense
You can’t tolerate silence and fill every pause
You feel anxious when you can’t fix what they’re experiencing
You give advice they didn’t ask for
You tell them how they should feel about the situation
You make jokes to lighten the mood they need to be in

How to hold space for someone

1. Listen to understand, not to respond

Your job while someone is sharing isn’t to formulate your response. It’s to actually hear what they’re saying. Not the surface content, but what they’re really communicating underneath.

This means putting aside your own stories, your advice, your reactions. Just listening. Fully. Without planning what you’ll say next.

When they pause, don’t jump in. Let the silence sit. Often, the most important thing someone needs to say comes after the first pause, once they know you’re really listening.

2. Resist the urge to fix

Fixing feels helpful. It makes you feel useful. But most of the time, the person doesn’t need your solution. They need to be heard.

Unless someone explicitly asks “what should I do?”, assume they need presence, not problem-solving. They’re probably not stuck because they haven’t thought of solutions. They’re stuck in the emotion of the experience and need someone to be with them in it.

When you rush to fix, you’re often managing your own discomfort with their pain. Notice that urge. Let it be there. Don’t act on it.

3. Acknowledge without minimizing

“That sounds really hard.” “I can see why you’re upset.” “This is a lot to carry.” These simple acknowledgments validate their experience without trying to change it.

What doesn’t help: “It’s not that bad.” “At least you don’t have…” “Others have it worse.” Even if those things are technically true, they don’t serve the person in pain. They just make them feel like their pain isn’t legitimate.

People don’t need their pain ranked or compared. They need it witnessed.

4. Ask instead of assuming

When you don’t know what someone needs, ask. “How can I best support you right now?” “Do you want me to just listen, or are you looking for input?” “What would be helpful?”

This does two things: it clarifies what they actually need, and it signals that you’re there to serve their needs, not your assumptions about what they need.

Sometimes they want advice. Sometimes they want solutions. But often they just want you to sit with them. Let them tell you.

5. Make your body available, not just your words

Holding space isn’t just what you say. It’s how you’re present. Lean in. Make eye contact. Put your phone away. Turn your body toward them.

Your physical presence communicates whether you’re really there or just waiting for your turn to talk. Be there. Fully. Even when it’s uncomfortable.

6. Tolerate emotion without rushing past it

When someone cries, don’t immediately try to stop it. Tears aren’t a problem to fix. They’re a release. Let them happen.

When someone expresses anger, don’t calm them down before they’ve fully expressed it. When someone shows fear, don’t rush to reassure. Just be with them in whatever they’re feeling.

Graves emphasized this: “Never want to cut emotion out of equation. High stakes conversations involve feelings.” Trying to eliminate emotion doesn’t help. It just makes people feel like their feelings are inappropriate.

7. Know when it’s about you and redirect

Graves’s warning about deflection is crucial. Sometimes you genuinely have something relevant to share. Sometimes you’re just making it about yourself because their pain is triggering yours.

Before you share your story, ask: does this serve them? Or does it shift focus to me? If it’s the latter, don’t share it. This moment is theirs, not yours.

You can have your own feelings about what they’re going through. Just process those feelings elsewhere, not with the person you’re supposed to be holding space for.

A real example

When Marcus’s friend told him she was going through a divorce, his instinct was to fix it. Offer perspective. Share his own divorce story. Remind her that she’d be okay eventually.

Instead, he just listened. For thirty minutes, he said almost nothing except “tell me more” and “that sounds really painful.” He sat with her while she cried. Didn’t try to stop the tears. Didn’t offer solutions. Just stayed.

Afterward, she thanked him. “You’re the first person who didn’t try to fix it or tell me it’ll be fine. You just let me be where I am.”

That’s holding space. Not fixing. Not relating. Not minimizing. Just being present with someone in their pain without trying to make it go away.

FAQs

Until they ask for it or until you ask if they want it and they say yes. Don’t assume they need your solutions just because they’ve shared a problem. Many people process by talking through things with someone who can listen without jumping to fix.

That’s information about your capacity, not about whether they should share. If you genuinely can’t hold space for someone because their experience triggers your own pain, it’s okay to say that: “I care about you and I want to support you, but I’m realizing this is touching some hard stuff for me. Can I help you find someone else to talk to about this?” That’s honest and protective for both of you.

Being heard is not useless. For many people, it’s the most helpful thing you can offer. Being seen in their pain, having it witnessed and validated, creates space for them to process and figure out what they need. Your advice—even if it’s good—isn’t helpful if they’re not ready to receive it.

“I don’t know what to say, but I’m here and I’m listening” is perfect. You don’t need the right words. You need genuine presence. People can feel the difference between someone uncomfortable trying to fill silence and someone comfortable just being with them.

Therapists are trained to do this professionally with specific techniques and boundaries. You’re not a therapist. You’re a friend or colleague or family member who cares. The principle is similar—presence without fixing—but you’re not treating them or providing professional guidance. You’re just being human with another human.

Takeaway

Holding space for someone is simple but not easy. It requires tolerating your own discomfort with their pain. Resisting the urge to fix, relate, or redirect. Trusting that your presence matters even when you’re not doing anything.

As Joshua Graves said, it’s about “sitting and listening, even when uncomfortable, without cutting emotion.” Not making it about you. Not turning their story into your story. Not trying to make their pain go away so you can feel better about being unable to fix it.

Most people just need to be seen. To know they’re not alone. To feel like what they’re experiencing is real and valid and worthy of attention.

You don’t have to have answers. You don’t have to make it better. You just have to show up and stay. That’s harder than fixing. And it’s also more powerful.

Next time someone shares something hard, try doing less. Listen more. Fix less. Be present without agenda. You might be surprised how much it matters to simply hold space.

Kendall Guillemette | Mar 2, 2026