I remember sitting at an event once, listening quietly, when a colleague next to me commented about another colleague. The words were sharp and dismissive: “That person is rising by making others look bad. That’s not professional.”
I stayed silent, but something stirred inside me. Not because I agreed or disagreed outright, but because I realized how quickly we judge without fully understanding the intention, the context, or the internal world of another human being. We often see only the surface—never the scars beneath.
What if that person was not trying to rise at all? What if they were sharing an experience so others could learn? What if speaking was their way of healing? Or perhaps the discomfort wasn’t about them—but about something unresolved within us.
The Psychology of Judgment: What We See Is Not Always the Truth
From a psychological perspective, judgment is rarely about the other person. It is often a projection. When someone shares openly—about pain, failure, or growth—it can activate our own unhealed experiences. The mind instinctively tries to protect itself. Instead of sitting with discomfort, it labels, criticizes, or dismisses.
Psychology tells us that when we feel threatened—emotionally or socially—the brain shifts into a defensive mode. The ego steps in. It whispers comparisons. It asks, “Why them and not me?” or “What if I am not enough?”
In these moments, judgment becomes a shield. But shields also block learning. Those who have processed their pain tend to listen with curiosity. Those who haven’t often listen with resistance. This is not a flaw—it is human. Healing changes how we hear stories.
The Mind and Chemical Changes: Why Stories Affect Us So Deeply
When someone shares a personal story—especially one involving loss, struggle, or resilience—the brain does something fascinating. Mirror neurons activate. These neurons allow us to emotionally simulate another person’s experience. We don’t just hear the story—we feel it.
This triggers chemical changes:
- Cortisol may rise if the story touches unresolved fear or trauma
- Dopamine activates when we see hope, growth, or meaning
- Oxytocin increases when vulnerability creates connection
If a person has not healed certain emotional wounds, these chemical responses can feel overwhelming. The nervous system may interpret vulnerability as danger. Instead of leaning in, the mind pulls away—often through criticism or judgment.
This is why storytelling is powerful, but also uncomfortable. It bypasses logic and speaks directly to the emotional brain.
Why Sharing Is Often Misunderstood in Professional Spaces
In corporate environments, many people are conditioned to believe that professionalism means emotional distance. Don’t show weakness. Don’t talk about pain. Don’t say too much. This creates a culture of silence.
Yet when we look closely at truly successful individuals, we see a different pattern. They talk about failure. They speak about loss. They openly share lessons learned from pain—not to seek sympathy, but to create meaning.
Knowledge does not come only from textbooks. Theories, leadership models, resilience frameworks—all of them are born from lived experience. Without stories, there would be no learning.
The fear many people carry is real: If I speak, I might be judged. I might lose opportunities. I might be misunderstood. But silence also has a cost—it disconnects us from our humanity.
Islamic Perspective: Stories as Divine Lessons
Islam is deeply rooted in storytelling—not as entertainment, but as guidance. The stories of the Prophets are not stories of instant success. They are stories of rejection, loss, betrayal, patience, grief, and unwavering faith. No Prophet was at the “top” at the beginning. Their journeys were filled with hardship, yet Allah preserved their stories so humanity could learn.
The Qur’an reminds us that stories are signs for those who reflect. These narratives are not shared to glorify pain or elevate ego, but to teach, heal, and guide hearts. Islam also teaches intention. Sharing an experience is not pride when the intention is sincere. It becomes pride only when the ego seeks superiority. There is a profound difference between “Look at me” and “Learn from this.”
At the same time, Islam reminds us of humility. When sharing, we are warned not to shame, name, or devalue others. The moment ego enters, the lesson loses its light.
My Promise to Myself: Speaking What Is Hard to Say
I made a promise to myself—one that did not come easily. I chose to speak about things people find difficult to voice. Not because I am fearless, but because silence helps no one. I speak because many are hurting quietly. I speak because some do not yet have the words. I speak because healing often begins when someone finally says, “You are not alone.”
This does not mean sharing everything. It means sharing responsibly, ethically, and with intention. It means checking the heart before opening the mouth.
A Gentle Reminder to the Reader
Before judging someone who shares their story, pause, and ask yourself gently:
- What is this stirring in me?
- Is this discomfort about them—or something unresolved within me?
- What lesson might be hidden here for my growth?
And if you are the one sharing, remember:
- Speak to heal, not to prove
- Share to teach, not to elevate
- Protect dignity—yours and others
- Keep ego in check, always
Stories do not make us weak. Avoiding them does. We learn through stories. We heal through stories. We grow when we listen—not just with our ears, but with our hearts. And perhaps, if we allowed ourselves to listen more deeply, we would judge less—and understand more.
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