Why People Tell You Things They’ve Never Told Anyone Else.

It happens everywhere.

Strangers.
Coworkers.
Friends of friends.

People you barely know start talking.
…Then they keep going.
Then suddenly they’re telling you something heavy. Personal. Unfinished.

And when you walk away, YOU feel it.

Drained.
Weighted.
Like you’re carrying something that isn’t yours.

Your nervous system signals safety before you say a word.

Not friendliness.
Not niceness.

Safety.

You don’t push.
You don’t pry.
You don’t rush people emotionally.

You’re calm. Present. Non-threatening.
And to others,
That feels rare.

So they open.

Not because you invited it.
But because you didn’t shut it down.

This isn’t empathy as kindness.
It’s empathy as containment.

You know how to stay steady when someone else is emotional.
How to listen without reacting.
How to hold space without escalating things.

That skill didn’t come from nowhere.

It came from environments where emotions had to be managed carefully.
Where listening was safer than speaking.
Where being the calm one kept things from getting worse.

So now your body does something most people can’t.

It gives permission.

People feel unjudged.
Unrushed.
Unthreatened.

They sense they won’t be dismissed or corrected.
They sense their feelings won’t be used against them.

And they talk.

The part no one warns you about is the cost.

You become the container.
The holding place.
The unspoken therapist - without training, consent, or rest.

And because you’re attuned, you don’t just hear the words.
You absorb the emotional residue underneath them.

That’s why you’re exhausted after “nothing happened.”
That’s why you need alone time after ordinary conversations.
That’s why your body feels heavy.

They released something.
You held it.

Understanding this changes everything.
You’re not responsible for anyone’s healing.
You’re not meant to carry what was never yours.

Your gift is attunement.
But attunement without boundaries turns into depletion.

Healing here isn’t about closing your heart.
That would damage something essential.

It’s about recognising that your presence is powerful. And power needs limits.

You’re allowed to redirect.
You’re allowed to step back.
You’re allowed to stop holding what you didn’t agree to carry.

Being safe does not mean being available to everyone.

You were never meant to hold everyone else’s unspoken weight.

You were meant to choose
when your depth is shared
and when it belongs
to you.

The Self
Art: Moebius