There’s a bit of an over estimation of awareness that becomes associated with one person’s assuming to feel how another does. 

Not to dismiss the very real feelings one can have when holding space for another, but to point out a bit of nuance in reality.

I have a period in my life where I self professed being an empath because of how intense my experience is when witnessing and listening to another’s pain. 

I do not intend to dismiss that very real experience but to introduce valid limits to how accurate our imaginations can connect fully to the other’s feelings.

A person’s experiences are hued with anything previous.

Someone raped for the first time might know a little of how someone with multiple rapes feels but not the whole picture because the body is relating only a single experience and attempting to magnify it.

In middle school the class was tasked to watch the entirely of Roots in a week’s time. By the end of it I couldn’t eat and created endless whyte-hate art. 

I’m whyte for those that don’t know and half my family helped slaves escape while the other half claims to have ‘treated them well.’ So, there was most certainly guilt involved, however there was also a nervous system reaction to the physical violence and silenced voices as I had experienced that to a degree…

But it wasn’t until recently post a diagnosis that empowered my stalkers to follow and abuse by proxy me in a new state that I began to grasp the full feeling of being othered by anyone with power and  feeling the full oppressive force that told my body there was no way to find freedom.

Still, I know that is not a fraction of what it felt to be a slave or even black in america now.

Another more tangible experience that illustrates my point is from a physical point of view.

I grew up only knowing my grandmother post stroke. She lacked control of one side of her body.

As a child I longed to understand and be helpful so I attempted to mimic and experience what she lived daily without a choice.

I now see this as a bit of an ableist approach much like trying to assume how being a slave feels is a bit on the racist side. Why? Because it takes the voice of the victim and inserts the observer’s. 

Just the same, years and years later I finally hurt one of my hands, not even the whole side of my body, and suddenly it became clear how little I understood about her struggle. No matter how well I mimicked her my experience was limited and per my control…

And that makes all the difference in the experience alone.

Yet there are still layers of previous pains she had that I will never be able to layer into my assumptive feeling.

Empathy is good; feeling with someone to share the burden is community and a need for us to choose a world that supports us all. 

Just the same, recognizing its limits gives the voice back to the victim and allows them the power to speak and ask for their needs safely. 

‘I hurt with you, not for you. Tell me what you need; I seek to help.’