When Empathy Grows Up

What does Empathy Mean to You?

There’s a kind of empathy you can learn in books and classrooms. And then there’s real empathy. The kind that lands hard—like a light beam to the forehead.

A ZAP not a comforting glow.

I recently read a newsletter from the Abundance Party’s founder about empathy versus EMPATHY. The first kind? It's what professionals study. The second kind? That’s born from lived experience. As someone who teaches empathy every day, I am sometimes surprised by how much I have to learn.

Let me tell you what happened.

The Rift

One of my adult children made a decision that really hurt me. It left me feeling judged, cast aside, like I’d failed as both a mom and a grandma. I was hysterical for about 12 hours, created a huge amount of distress for my husband who cancelled the morning mountain bike ride, and defended myself. The feelings lingered for months—and I do mean months. EIGHT MONTHS.

Friends, sisters, even my own psychotherapist assured me:

Yes, that was hurtful.

Yes, your feelings are valid.

No, you are not a narcissist.

Just try to move on.

But my mind wouldn’t let it go.

There were a few family interactions when I wasn't there for him, including the passing of his paternal grandma with whom he was very close. We were in the same space. We exchanged I love yous. The distance was still there. It was quiet but thick—like fog you can’t breathe through. I wasn’t okay with it. Not really.

The Moment of Shift

One day, worn out and aching from the chasm between us, I asked myself a hard question:

“What am I not getting?”

In that moment, I had an empathic epiphany. It hit like truth does sometimes—uninvited but unmistakable.

I WAS only thinking of myself.

He wasn’t asking for anything huge. He wasn’t cutting me off. He wasn’t being cruel. He was asking for something I wasn’t giving. I knew how—I just wasn’t doing it. I was so focused on myself, I couldn’t see it clearly enough to respond with love.

The Power of Hearing

It turns out, he had been clear the whole time. He told me what he needed. He set boundaries. He asked me to stop putting my own needs first.

I hadn’t understood. Not because he wasn’t clear— but because I wasn’t listening. Not really.

I kept trying to frame it as right versus wrong. I was stuck in a loop of what should have happened. But that’s not how empathy works.

There’s no universal rule book.

There’s just what’s true for me… and what’s true for you.

I Missed It—Over and Over

When his baby was born, I missed it.

When he got married, I missed it.

During those tender teenage years, I missed it.

A countless number of times, I missed it.

He wasn’t asking for drama. He wasn’t demanding anything extravagant. He was saying: Please see me. Please hear me.

Now that I see it, I can’t unsee it. And it hurts. It hurts that I have hurt him—deeply. Repeatedly.

Stepping onto the New Path

Here’s the hardest part. I can’t fix it with a single conversation. There’s no magic apology. No do-over for the moments.

The only thing I can do now is change. Really change. Not say I will. Do it.

That means walking a new path—not for a day or a week, but until I reach a new destination.

A place where he feels safe. Seen. Respected.

It’s not the path I have chosen. It’s not the one I know best. But it’s the one he’s asked me to walk. And that matters to me.

What Real Empathy Requires

Empathy isn’t about being right. It’s not about understanding immediately. It’s about the willingness to understand—even when it hurts.

I hate that old saying about walking a mile in someone else’s shoes.

It’s not about borrowing shoes that fit.

It’s about being willing to walk in shoes that are too small, with feet that are blistered and broken. It’s about walking miles in pain, not knowing where you’re going. It’s about walking without shoes at all—alone. Without support. Without recognition.

Real empathy means noticing where you’ve missed the mark. It means apologizing without defending yourself. It means walking a different path—because someone you love lives at the end of it.

Thinking about this experience reminded me of the book Mutant Message Down Under, which explores the courage it takes to walk a new path in unfamiliar, often painful ways.

If You’re in the Fog Too

Maybe someone in your life has asked for something you didn’t know how to give. Maybe their request felt like criticism. Maybe you froze. Or defended. Or went silent.

It’s okay. That doesn’t mean you've failed.

It means there’s more to learn. More to practice. More ways to grow.

Ask yourself: “What am I not getting?”

Listen for the answer. It might hurt. But it might open the door to connection—the kind that feels solid and kind and true.

You’re Not Alone

If your heart is heavy… If you’ve made mistakes you can’t take back… Welcome to the club.

We all have. I mean, I have--I don't know for sure about all of us.

Empathy—the real kind—gives us another chance.

A chance to listen better. To see more clearly. To step off the path we know—and walk toward the one that matters.

Would you like help facing that next hard conversation? Need a space to sort through your own empathy versus EMPATHY moments?

You belong here.