The magic of “I don’t know what to say” 

Years ago, in my first internship at a psychiatric day treatment program, Lisa was my supervisor.  A tall, charismatic therapist with a deep, commanding voice.

And the clients…sadly had a lot of challenges.
One client was talking to the wall.
Another client was painting their last suicide attempt.
And one guy looked at me like, “Hey, intern… can you handle me?”

I thought, “What have I gotten myself into?”

Lisa noticed my anxiety.  She joined me in leading a group.

Then… It happened.
A client stood up.  Red face.  Heavy breathing.  Tight fists.
He yelled, complained about his doctor giving him bad medicine.

I thought, “He’s mad.  How’s Lisa going to deal with him?”

Lisa…calmly said,
“I’m sorry you feel that way. I don’t know what to say.”

I nearly fell off my chair.

I thought, “Lisa! You’re the supervisor! You’re supposed to know what to say!”

But the client?  He paused.  Eyes wide.  Mouth open.  And then… sat down.  Calm.  Quiet.  Respectful.

Lisa had magic.

That’s when it hit me: even the most seasoned therapists feel vulnerable.
But here’s the secret… Lisa didn’t try to hide it.  She didn’t try to look tough.
She didn’t argue.  She didn’t reason.
She just acknowledged his feelings.
She was genuine.
And suddenly… he felt heard.

I learned something important that day:
To truly connect with others, you have to be willing to be vulnerable yourself.

Sit with discomfort.  

Speak honestly.   

Take the risk.

When you do… others feel safe to do the same.
And that… is where real understanding begins.