Holding Space: How to Be Present Without Fixing
Dear ‘Holding Space’
You’ve left an impression, and are now immoralized in meme history. People use your name to acknowledge moments of earnest sincerity, emotional vulnerability, and a heartfelt phrase that celebrates the art of being present.
Journalist Tracy E. Gilchrist’s four-minute interview with Wicked stars Cynthia Erivo and Ariana Grande unexpectedly sparked a viral meme after she used the phrase “holding space” to describe how queer audiences connect with the song “Defying Gravity.” Erivo got teary, Ariana held her finger, and the internet ran wild with jokes.
Your legacy lives on as a symbol of connection, surprise, and the joyful unpredictability of internet fame.
Let’s talk about what it means to sit with someone’s storm. Spoiler: It’s not about us being a human Band-Aid.
What It Is
Holding space is staying present—like a human anchor—while someone wrestles with something painful whether it’s grief, trauma, or just a really crappy day. It means listening without judgment, allowing them to process their feelings at their own pace, and avoiding the temptation to interpret or explain their experience
Think of it as sitting beside someone in a downpour, umbrella in hand, without trying to command the rain to stop.
What It’s Not
Giving advice: “Have you tried yoga?” → Nope.
Dismissing emotions: “It’s not that bad!” → Hard pass.
Not tolerating discomfort: Don’t change the topic when it gets real.
Why It Works
When we stop trying to “solve” pain, human magic happens. People settle in a sense of safety and start untangling. Carl Rogers, a person center psychologist, called this unconditional positive regard—showing up with empathy, zero judgment, and immense patience for the moment as it is.
Think of it like a “gathering place” where people piece together their scrambled thoughts, one fragment at a time.
How to Actually Do It
Ditch the fix-it toolkit and maybe channel your inner Carl Rogers. Focus on being, not doing. Reflect, validate, repeat.
Don’t shy away from those awkward silences. If you’re feeling helpless, that’s totally okay—now you know how the other person may feel. And, that’s exactly how real connection starts, with a little bit of discomfort.
Be a “holder”: Foster a safe space where emotions can flow openly without fear of chaos, allowing genuine connection to thrive.
Hold the rain, the chaos, the pain—in doing so, you hold not just the moments, but the person themselves.
The Takeaway
True support isn’t about heroics. It’s about presence, it’s the quiet courage of letting someone’s pain exist without cleaning it up.
So next time you’re tempted to fix it, try this instead:
“I’m here. Take your time.”
