We need to connect deeply to have good relationships. To build trust. To reduce conflict. To influence others and help them make positive change.
But to be emotionally understood by someone else — or the reverse — isn’t just uncommon. It’s practically arcane, like alchemy or finding good tomatoes out of season. It’s rarer than a humble influencer. We try, but often we’re like the adults in a Peanuts cartoon. Wah-wah-wah.
What’s truly maddening is that this entire ordeal is treated like something intuitive. Like if you just cared enough, you’d naturally know how to be emotionally attuned. That’s like saying if you just love cars enough, you’ll instinctively understand how to rebuild a transmission. Not the case. So what’s the secret?
Validation is definitely up there. Research shows validation is one of the strongest predictors of healthy, lasting relationships. Stronger than intelligence. Stronger than compatibility. Stronger than shared playlists or mutual hatred of the same celebrities. And it’s not difficult to learn.
We’ll be drawing from the book “Validation” by Caroline Fleck of Stanford University.
Let’s get to it…
Validation is not what you think. It’s not “agreeing with someone no matter what.”
It’s acknowledging that, given their experience, someone’s feelings make some kind of sense.
Validation is not “Yes, you should key his car.” It’s “I get why you feel like keying his car.” There’s a difference. One gets you a criminal record. The other builds trust, intimacy, and psychological safety — those soft-sounding concepts that actually determine whether your relationships flourish or quietly rot from the inside out. Validation is about communicating to someone that their internal state makes sense, not that their conclusion does.
And now some people are going to protest: “But what if they’re wrong? What if their feelings are based on total nonsense? If I just explain my perspective well enough, they’ll see that I’m right.” No, they won’t. Because you’re skipping a step. People don’t listen when they’re busy defending their sanity. Telling someone their feelings are “wrong” is like telling a thunderstorm it’s being “a bit much.” You’ll still get wet, and now you’ve annoyed the weather.
Until people feel heard, they are not listening. You need to meet them where they are instead of dragging them to wherever your smug little emotional compass says they should be.
Perhaps the most paradoxical aspect of validation is what experts (read: I) have dubbed The Irony Principle of Emotional Influence: “To get someone to change, you must first convince them that they are fine just as they are.”
This maddening contradiction can feel like trying to bake a cake by first announcing, “This cake is perfect and does not require baking.” And yet, when you do this — when you validate the cake — it often bakes itself. Because people are far more likely to listen to you if they trust you understand why they’re upset in the first place.
So try to find the kernel of truth in their experience, the bit that actually makes sense. That’s what allows you to honestly say, “Yeah, I see why that would bother you.”
(To learn how to get people to change, click here.)
Validation: it’s not just for parking garages anymore. Let’s start by dismantling the middle school version of this concept you’re probably working with. “I hear you. That must’ve been hard.” That’s not validation. That’s customer service. That’s what Delta Airlines says to the guy whose luggage is in Uruguay. Validation isn’t just about using the right words…
Yes, attending. Not in the sense of “I’m attending a seminar so I can sleep with my eyes open and collect a lanyard.”
Attending means paying attention and listening with interest, curiosity, and no judgment.
Listening is not just the act of ceasing to talk. That’s called “not talking.” Ask clarifying questions that show that you’re making an effort to understand. Assist them in making their point. You are the midwife to their emotional baby.
Lean in a little. Nod. Make eye contact but don’t overdo it. You want to maintain the kind of eye contact that says, “I am interested in your emotional state,” and not, “I would like to wear your skin.”
Attending is like holding a flashlight while someone digs through a basement. You don’t get to control what they find. You don’t even get to narrate it. You’re just holding the light steady while they do the real work.
(To learn how to increase your attention span, click here.)
And how do we deepen the connection? It’s easier than you think…
Someone says, “That restaurant was the best I’ve been to in years.” Now your average conversation assassin will respond by launching into a ten-minute story about their own best restaurant experience or pointing out the problematic labor practices of the hospitality industry.
Instead, you copy and simply say, “The best in years?” Yes, that’s it. That’s the whole thing.
Tons of research shows this brings speaker and listener closer. Copying is akin to holding up a flattering mirror that says, “You are interesting. Please tell me more. No, I’m not just waiting for you to shut up so I can talk about how much I deadlift.”
It’s the verbal equivalent of giving someone a friendship bracelet. A way to say, “I am here with you,” without having to share your fries.
Some nuance is required, obviously. You don’t want to go full EchoBot 4000. And you should not copy people when they’re being aggressive or rude. That’s called “escalation” and is better handled by riot police.
(To learn how hostage negotiators use copying, click here.)
But what about when someone is losing it? What about when they’re engaging in bad behavior? How do you validate when they’re emotional or you don’t agree with what they’re doing?
Most people don’t act crazy in a vacuum. They behave like idiots in context. Maybe they’ve got a herniated disc, a mother who only spoke in insults, or a frontal lobe marinated in years of cable news. Whatever the case, there’s usually a reason people do dumb, self-destructive, or socially offensive things, and that reason is only rarely “because they’re inherently terrible and should be exiled to a shame gulag.”
To contextualize is to say, “I see how the world has shaped you, and I don’t judge you for it.” It means acknowledging that people’s actions, while sometimes crappy, are often more symptomatic than sinister.
A variation on this is “equalizing.” This is when they behave inappropriately — but in the same context, anyone would have done the same.
They’re cranky because their baby screamed all night? Of course they are.
They’re quick-tempered after four hours of back-to-back Zoom calls? Who wouldn’t be?
Taking context into consideration allows you to say, “You’re not evil. You’re just in a situation that would make Gandhi punch a wall.”
Some might think that contextualizing a person’s behavior is the same as excusing it. This is categorically false, much like the notion that wearing Crocs ironically makes them stylish. You’re not saying, “It’s okay that you screamed at your kid.” You’re saying, “I understand why you did.”
You don’t rewire a bomb by punching it. You defuse it by understanding how it’s built. And you don’t change behavior by convincing people they’re bad. You change it by helping them understand the forces that shaped them and why there might be a better way. You give them the one thing shame never can: a way forward.
(For more on how to be a better listener, click here.)
Now you can validate them at their worst. But how do you build a bridge to closeness?
Proposing is guessing what you think someone else is feeling and then saying it out loud, with your actual mouth.
Imagine they tell you about their boss humiliating them in a meeting:
You: “You must’ve wanted to walk out and set fire to the building.”
Them: [blinks, short-circuits, someone somewhere feels a disturbance in The Force] “Yes. Exactly.”
Truth is, most people don’t need their problems solved. We want someone to say, “Yeah, that thing you’re carrying? It looks heavy as hell.” And proposing does that.
“But what if my proposal is wrong?”
That’s fine. You’re showing that you care enough to try. Sometimes it’ll be clumsy. But so is everything that makes us human. Romance is clumsy. Grief is clumsy. You’re still way ahead of the guy who responds to “my grandma died” with a thumbs-up emoji.
And, by contrast, when you get it right, it can feel magical. You say, “You must feel like an ashtray in a room full of smokers,” and the person freezes, because yes, that’s the sentence they didn’t even know they were groping for. Then they exhale, and you both sit in that sacred little moment of “Oh thank god, somebody gets it.”
(For more on how to make close friends, click here.)
So what’s an easy thing that adds a little validation to any conversation?
When someone shares something joyful, for God’s sake, light up. Smile like your face muscles aren’t on furlough. Let your hand reach for your heart. Let your face register the impact.
And when they recount something bad? Flinch. Shake your head.
React with visceral honesty. When you emote, you are essentially saying, “I am present, I am real, and I am not afraid to join you in whatever emotional bog we’ve stumbled into together.” That’s powerful. And it matters. Because people remember when someone felt with them.
Emoting doesn’t have to be big. It can be a single raised eyebrow. A long exhale. Let yourself respond in the moment instead of editing your soul down to something safe. Because life is messy and weird and devastating and hilarious, and if your face isn’t showing at least some of that, then what are we even doing here?
You want to connect? Drop the cool. Drop the distance. Emote. React. You don’t need to cry. You don’t need to be dramatic. You just need to show up and stop outsourcing your feelings to emojis.
(For more on developing emotional intelligence, click here.)
Okay, time to talk about one of the most powerful methods of validation — and why we usually get it wrong…
It’s when you share something personal to show you can relate to what they’re going through.
It’s the subtle, high-wire act of momentarily pulling back the curtain of your own life just enough to let another person feel seen in theirs. It’s the difference between “I hear you” and “I know that feeling in my bones. I lived it. I’m with you.”
This is powerful. But oh, there are so many ways to jack this up. Do it right, and you connect on a level deeper than most people reach without telepathy. Do it wrong, and you become the emotional equivalent of that guy at the party who corners people about his screenplay.
Don’t make these mistakes:
Mistake #1: Overshadowing
Disclosure as competition, as one-upmanship. “Your breakup was tragic? Mine involved a restraining order and three separate letters to Congress.” You don’t get points for making someone else feel like their pain is small because yours came with a marching band and its own weather system. Disclosure should connect, not compete.
Mistake #2: The Conversational Hostile Takeover
You start with good intentions but by the time you’re done, you’ve sucked up twenty minutes, the air in the room, and possibly their will to live. This is not connection. This is narrative theft. If you’re talking longer than two minutes, stop. If you’re referencing an ex from 1997, definitely stop. And if you’ve forgotten what your friend was upset about, call a cab and go home.
Mistake #3: Boundary-Crossing
Saying “I’ve struggled with depression” is relatable. Saying “I’ve struggled with depression and once mailed a severed doll head to my boss” is evidence. This doesn’t build connection; it makes people quietly update your contact name to “Don’t Answer.” Disclosure requires a basic understanding of what is emotionally appropriate, not just what is emotionally true. Disclosure should be intimate, not indictable. Save the TMI for the memoir.
Mistake #4: Being Too Close to It.
You try to relate, but you haven’t fully dealt with your own issue yet. You’re trying to comfort someone else when really, you’re just auditioning for comfort yourself. The person you were trying to validate now feels like they need to validate you. You can’t be a lifeguard if you’re actively drowning.
But when disclosure is done right? Sweet Mary Poppins on a hoverboard, it’s magic. Disclosure is one of the most honest ways to say, “You are not alone.” So yes, tell your story — briefly, gently, with precision — and then get the hell out of the way.
(To learn how to be more charming, click here.)
Okay, we’ve covered a lot. Let’s round it up and we’ll talk about the most important kind of validation. And the one you’re probably neglecting…
Here’s how to develop emotionally intelligent friendships:
We’ll happily apply the above methods of validation to friends, coworkers, and dogs…
But we’re often reluctant to use them with ourselves. We dig into every perceived mistake we make like we’re mining for guilt diamonds.
Next time you find yourself losing it, try contextualizing. Stepping back and going, “Okay, that was not my finest hour, but let’s look at what led up to it. Was I tired? Yes. Was I hungry? Yes.”
Offer yourself a get-out-of-jail-free card stamped with the words “You’re human.” This is not lowering your standards. It’s recalibrating them to reflect reality.
Using validation with anyone can be tricky at first. We are a problem solving species. But problem solving doesn’t connect us. It’s tech support. And nobody ever felt loved by tech support. You bond over someone understanding you. Validation is the emotional WD-40 that makes actual communication possible.
And when done right, people leave a conversation not just feeling heard but feeling known.
Which is, if we’re being honest, the thing we’re all starving for.