Please Don’t Fix Me—Just Sit With Me While I Bleed Emotionally
Without Passing Out Or Creating A Blowout...
Let me warn you now: this might be the hardest skill in relationships.
Not compromise. Not communication. Not the infamous “I statements.”
Nope. It’s the ability to sit with someone you love while they’re hurting… and do nothing.
No rescuing.
No solving.
No panicked monologue about your own trauma so you don’t feel like such a terrible partner or parent.
Just pure, grounded, calm-as-a-cucumber presence.
And yes, it’s as uncomfortable as trying to hold eye contact with your kid mid-tantrum in Target while they're screaming that you're the worst parent alive because you said no to the Pokémon Oreos.
Why It’s So Damn Hard to Just Be Present…
1. You probably never saw it modeled.
Most of us were raised in homes where big emotions were treated like emergencies or annoyances. Either way, they were something to shut down, not sit with.
So now, when someone you love gets emotional, your internal wiring screams:
“Fix it. Quiet it. Control it.”
And presence feels like doing nothing—which your childhood brain interprets as failure.
2. Love makes us want to eliminate pain, not witness it.
When someone you love is suffering, everything in your body says, “MAKE IT STOP.”
But here’s the paradox: the more you try to fix it, the more they feel like you’re not really with them.
Love wants to rescue. Presence wants to join.
3. Presence makes us feel powerless—and we hate that.
Doing nothing feels like you’re letting them down.
So you react.
You solve, reassure, overtalk, or completely hijack the moment with your own pain because at least it gives you a sense of control.
But that false sense of control often costs you the very thing your partner needs most: connection.
4. We assume their pain is an indirect critique of us.
We take it personally.
Your partner says they’re lonely, and you hear: You’re failing me.
They say they’re exhausted, and you hear: You don’t do enough.
So instead of staying present, we defend, deflect, or go passive-aggressive.
Because sitting in their pain would mean admitting that we might not be perfect—and we’d rather blow up the moment than feel that exposed.
5. We confuse understanding with agreement.
This one’s sneaky.
People think: If I validate their emotions, that means they’re right… and I’m wrong.
So instead of saying “I get why you’d feel that way,” we launch into cross-examination like we’re auditioning for Law & Order: SVU—Marriage Edition.
Validation isn’t confession. It’s connection.
6. We’ve been conditioned to treat pain like a glitch.
Our culture says emotions are inefficient, messy, and get in the way of productivity.
So we’ve been taught to silence, distract, or bypass pain.
Presence—just sitting in the stillness of someone else’s suffering—feels wildly countercultural.
But it’s also deeply healing.
7. We’re emotionally backed up.
You can’t sit with someone else’s pain if you’re drowning in your own.
If your emotional bandwidth is maxed out—or worse, you’re carrying silent resentment—you’ll either avoid, collapse, or explode.
Presence requires internal spaciousness. And a lot of people are running on fumes.
8. We don’t know what “success” looks like without resolution.
Being present often leads to nothing changing—no apology, no fix, no clean ending.
Which drives a lot of people nuts.
But what if connection itself is the outcome?
What if just sitting with someone and helping them feel less alone is the win?
9. We fear our own pain will be minimized or forgotten.
This is one of the most common breakdowns I see in couples and families: the belief that being fully present with someone else’s pain somehow erases or diminishes our own.
It triggers that deep resentment that says, “But what about me?”—especially when both people have been hurting, but only one is being emotionally focused on in the moment.
We unconsciously assume that if we validate their pain, we’re invalidating our own. It becomes a competition of whose hurt matters more.
This is where the principle from my previous article—"It’s not your fault. It’s not their fault. The one word that changes everything?"—comes back into play. That word was “too.”
Your pain and their pain can both exist. Their hurt doesn’t negate yours.
But if you rush to center yourself during their moment of vulnerability, you rob them—and yourself—of healing.
Presence isn’t surrendering your story. It’s temporarily stepping aside so someone else’s pain can breathe.
How to Stay Present When Every Part of You Wants to Fix, Flee, or Fume
If your insides start doing the cha-cha any time someone you love gets emotional, congratulations—you’re human. Presence isn’t something you either have or don’t. It’s something you practice. And no, you don’t have to become a monk or burn sage in your living room to do it.
Here’s how to actually stay grounded when your partner, child, or friend opens up emotionally—and everything in you wants to change the subject, solve the problem, or disappear into the drywall.
1. Anchor Your Body First
Before you open your mouth, get in your body. Most people try to be emotionally present while their nervous system is in full-blown evacuation mode. Doesn’t work.
Try this:
Wiggle your toes. Seriously. It pulls you out of your head.
Feel your butt in the seat and your feet on the floor.
Take a breath like you’re trying to fog up a window. Then exhale slow.
Inhale for 4, exhale for 6. Do it twice. Your heart rate will thank you.
This isn’t hippie stuff. This is biology. If your body doesn’t feel safe, your brain won’t either.
2. Silence Your Inner Defense Attorney
Your partner says, “I feel like I’m always alone in this.”
And your brain screams:
ALWAYS?! Are you kidding me? I just made dinner, bathed the kids, and canceled my fantasy football draft to hang out with you!
Here’s what to do instead:
Notice the spike of defensiveness.
Breathe. Don’t argue.
Repeat silently: “They are explaining, not blaming. Let me hear them out more.”
Then say out loud:
“I don't want you to feel like this. Tell me more about why you feel like this.”
Validate now. Clarify later. Connection first, cleanup second.
3. Use This Presence Mantra
Mantras aren’t just for yoga class. They’re for emotional reactivity too.
Pick one that works for you. Say it in your head while listening:
“Be here. Stay here.”
“Their pain is not my failure.”
“This moment is not about me.”
“I can care without fixing.”
That single internal shift changes the entire dynamic. And your partner will feel it.
4. Replace Fixing With Mirroring
Don’t respond with a solution. Respond with a reflection.
Try:
“That makes so much sense.”
“I didn’t realize it was feeling that intense.”
“I can see why that would hit hard.”
Even better?
“Thank you for sharing that with me. I know it’s not easy.”
You're not there to guide them out of the forest. You're there to sit with them until the shaking stops.
That last one is so important because most people growing up don't get people thanking them for sharing their experience. This allows reassurance and permission for this person to release their anxiety about how others are going to react to their processing.
5. Touch, if Appropriate
A gentle hand on a knee, a quiet side-hug, or even sitting close can do more than words. If your partner’s body feels safe with yours, use that physical presence to communicate emotional safety.
It says:
I’m here. I see you. You’re not alone.
Just don’t use it to shut the conversation down.
This isn’t the emotional version of “let’s have sex so we don’t have to talk about this.”
Unless they’re totally into that…KIDDING!!!!
6. Let the Silence Land
Silence makes people squirm. But it also makes space for depth.
After your partner says something hard, just pause.
Don’t rush in with a silver lining. Don’t go into your story.
Just… be quiet.
Let them speak more if they want. Let the air stretch. Trust that the moment is doing something powerful, even if it feels awkward.
7. Take a Break… the Right Way
If you feel your reactivity climbing the walls, you’re allowed to hit pause—but not disappear.
Try:
“I want to stay connected here, and I’m feeling overwhelmed. Can we take a quick break so I can come back grounded?”
“I’m starting to feel flooded, and I don’t want to say something reactive. Can I walk for five minutes and then we talk more?”
Breaks are healthy when they’re communicated clearly and closed with intention.
8. Accept That You Might Not Get Credit
Here’s the kicker: you could do all of this beautifully and not get a thank you.
They may still be upset. The emotion may linger.
But presence isn’t a transaction—it’s a gift.
You don’t hold space to get a pat on the back.
You do it because it’s who you want to be in your relationships.
Final Reminder: This Is a Superpower You Build
Presence isn’t passive. It’s one of the most active things you can do.
You’re staying when everything in your body wants to flee.
You’re softening when your ego wants to defend.
You’re choosing intimacy over control, connection over correctness.
And that?
That’s the stuff marriages are built on.
That’s the stuff kids never forget.
That’s what makes a family feel like home.
Even if nothing gets solved.
Even if all you do is sit quietly next to someone you love and say with your presence: