It happened in my coaching session.
A conversation that stirred the depths of reality of life and pain, in my session which is otherwise not so intense.
Pooja (name changed for obvious reasons) was on the Zoom call, her gaze fixed to a point that I thought the video had paused.
As was always the case in my coaching sessions, Tibetan healing music was playing in the background.
After a long silence, she spoke, barely a whisper.
"I've never talked about this," she said.
She began to unravel the layers of her story, her relationship with a person marred by mental abuse, domination and captivity.
This was deja vu for her as she had been in a similar situation at home during her childhood.
Each story was uncomfortable for her to speak and for me to listen.
For years, Pooja had bottled up her emotions towards her father, burying them beneath a facade of self-reliance.
But today was different. Today, she found herself vulnerable, and someone was listening to her without any judgment.
And then, it happened - a single tear escaped her eye.
It was the first time that somebody had cried during the session.
In that moment, something shifted. The floodgates of her emotions burst open, tears that had been held back for far too long.
In allowing herself to be vulnerable, she had finally given herself permission to feel, to cry.
I listened. I listened not with the intention of fixing or solving, but simply being there to listen.
For the first time in her life, she felt heard. And in that moment of connection, she realized that she was not at fault and that how she was treated was not right. No one owned her.
As our session drew to a close, her tears had dried, leaving behind a sense of lightness.
As she left my coaching session, I realized how important it is to talk, to listen, and to be heard.
With the increase in importance and pervasiveness of technology and social media, human connection is reducing.
Listening to each other's stories is important.
Do you feel that you are being heard?