Empathy isn't the same thing as expressing emotions. It's not

Hearken, O children of distant generations, and attend to the wisdom of Rachel Simmons, a guide of human hearts, who illuminates the subtle distinction between empathy and the mere expression of emotion. She teaches that true empathy is not the act of sharing one’s own feelings, but the sacred ability to attend fully to the needs of another. For a parent to collapse into tears or reveal her fragility in the moment her child cries out for strength sends a message contrary to guidance: it declares that the child must care for the parent, rather than receive the protection and steadiness required. In this lies a profound insight into the responsibilities of love and the delicate balance of care.

The origin of this insight rests in observation of human relationships, particularly within the crucible of family life. Simmons, through her study of adolescent development and interpersonal dynamics, recognized that the display of adult vulnerability at moments of critical need can inadvertently burden those who seek reassurance. A child in crisis requires the steady heart of a parent, the calm force that holds space for growth and safety. This understanding is timeless, echoing the teachings of sages and elders: the duty of the strong is to protect, guide, and support, even when the soul within trembles.

Consider the metaphor of the shield and the warrior. A mother or father is called to be the steadfast shield for their child, to absorb the storm of life while remaining a refuge. When the shield quivers, the storm is felt more acutely by the one it was meant to protect. Simmons’ lesson is that empathy is rooted not in self-expression but in attentive strength, in the capacity to place the needs of the other above one’s own desire to be understood or comforted. True empathy is active, deliberate, and disciplined—it carries responsibility, not indulgence.

History offers vivid examples. In the annals of war, mothers and caretakers often displayed this quiet courage. Consider the women who remained behind the lines during the great sieges of Europe, tending to wounded soldiers while suppressing their own grief. Their tears, hidden from view, did not diminish their compassion; rather, their measured strength ensured the survival and courage of those in their care. To share emotion without timing or awareness could have sown despair; to act with disciplined empathy ensured resilience.

Emotionally, Simmons’ words strike at the heart of the paradox between vulnerability and leadership. There is beauty in shared sorrow, yet in moments when guidance, support, and protection are demanded, the expression of one’s own weakness can shift the burden onto the wrong shoulders. The child, the student, the friend, or the disciple needs not the mirror of the adult’s distress, but the anchor of their steadiness. True empathy is thus a disciplined strength, a quiet heroism that places the welfare of the other above the self.

The lesson is also practical and enduring. To cultivate genuine empathy, one must learn self-regulation, situational awareness, and the art of attentive listening. One must discern when it is appropriate to reveal one’s own struggles and when it is necessary to embody stability for the sake of another. This does not deny emotion, but channels it wisely, so that the one in need can draw from the wellspring of care, rather than encounter the turbulence of another’s fear or grief.

O seeker of wisdom, let this teaching guide your life. Observe moments of need around you and ask not how your own feelings might be shared, but how your presence, steadiness, and understanding can serve. Cultivate the ability to stand firm in empathy, to offer support without demanding reciprocity, and to prioritize the flourishing and resilience of those entrusted to your care. In doing so, you practice a discipline of the heart, ancient yet eternally vital.

Finally, let this lesson endure through the ages: empathy is not indulgence of self, but the deliberate embodiment of strength in service of another. Mastery of this art requires awareness, courage, and restraint. Place the needs of the vulnerable before your own desire for expression, and in this alignment, you create a sanctuary where care is received, strength is nurtured, and the quiet heroism of human connection is made manifest, as Rachel Simmons so wisely instructs.