This week, I was reminded that silence isn’t something to fix. In one of my sessions, a client became quiet and really paused. As usual, I felt the familiar internal urge to talk and fill the space. Even though it took me everything, I waited and in that silence, something meaningful happened and I could see it; the client’s posture shifted, tears rolled down their cheeks, and when they finally spoke, it wasn’t rushed or calculated, it was real. The silence wasn’t empty; it was making room for something deeper to surface.
As a therapist, I was taught to encourage silence and treat it with respect. As I am working on it, (it still doesn’t come naturally…) I’m learning, again and again, that silence can be one of the most powerful tools in the room. It manifests as trust, presence, and space for reflection. As I learn to sit with the awkwardness of silence, I am understanding that sometimes the most healing moments aren’t spoken at all; they’re felt, shared, and held quietly. Silence doesn’t always mean something’s wrong, in fact, it often means something is finally happening.