One of my closest friends from middle school has flown cross country five times in the past three months to care for her mother, whose health has taken a significant turn.
Jennifer lives in Los Angeles. Her mother lives in a suburb of Maryland. Jennifer is an only child and the primary contact for all of her mother's affairs. Without a word of complaint, she has managed dialysis appointments, sorted through and staged her mother's home for sale, researched assisted living facilities, visited them, signed a lease, and stepped into the role of full advocate when concerns arose about her mother's care. She has done all of this while maintaining her own life, her own work, her own home on the other side of the country.
Every week or so, sometimes twice a week, I send her a short message. It says some version of: I honor you for your devotion. I am here if you want to talk.
What I Did Not Say
I did not tell her she was amazing. I did not tell her she was the strongest person I knew. I did not flood her with the kind of praise that, while well-intentioned, can sometimes feel like it is adding to the performance of being strong rather than releasing her from it.
I said: I see you. I honor all of it.
There is a meaningful difference between being praised and being witnessed. Praise is about the outcome. Witnessing is about the person. Praise says your performance is impressive. Witnessing says your humanity is visible to me, including the hard parts.
Why This Matters for SLPs
We are, by training and by temperament, exceptional at witnessing. We sit with people in difficult moments. We notice what others miss. We make people feel seen in the therapy room, often without even realizing how profound that is.
And then we go home. And very often, nobody witnesses us.
The late nights of documentation that are completely off the books of our official job description. The early morning bedside evaluations. The sessions where we held space for a family's grief and then walked straight into the next session and held space there too. The advocacy work. The emails sent at 9 p.m. The reports written on personal time because there was no other time.
Most of us do this without expecting accolades. For most of us, the act of service is its own reward. But that does not mean being seen is unnecessary. It is not.
Something Small That Changes Things
Being witnessed does not require a grand gesture. It requires a moment of genuine attention from another person who is willing to say: I notice. I see what you are doing. I honor it.
Think about one person in your life who is currently carrying something heavy. Not someone who needs advice or resources or problem-solving. Someone who just needs to know their load has been seen. Reach out this week with nothing more than that. Tell them you see them. Tell them you honor what they are doing.
And if nobody has said it to you lately, let me say it now.
I see you. I see your devotion. I see your selflessness. I see your heart for this work. I see the passion that brings you back to it even on the days when the system makes it harder than it should be.
