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Volunteering is often described as a selfless act—something we do for the benefit of others. But here’s the truth most people don’t talk about: sometimes, when you give your time, your presence, your heart… You end up getting something you didn’t even know you needed.
When Life Falls Apart
After her divorce and the sudden death of her dad, Stephy felt like she was barely hanging on. The days blurred together. Nights were restless. Plans got cancelled. Texts went unanswered. And when people asked how she was doing, all she could offer was a small smile and a quiet, “I’m okay.”
But she wasn’t.
Therapy helped a little. Journaling helped on the good days. But mostly, she felt like a broken mirror—pieces of herself scattered everywhere, reflecting nothing.
Then one night, scrolling aimlessly through a mental health forum (the kind you find at 2 a.m. when sleep won’t come), she saw a post:
“Volunteers Needed – Mental Health Listening Line. No advice, just listening. Training provided.”
Stephy stared at it.
Me?
She could barely keep herself together. What good could she possibly do for anyone else?
But for some reason, she clicked the link. And she signed up.
Learning to Listen
The training wasn’t easy. There was a lot to learn—how to listen, how to hold space without trying to fix, how to set boundaries, how to sit with someone else’s pain without taking it on as your own.
But oddly enough, Stephy loved it. For the first time in a long time, she felt a sense of focus. Connected. Like maybe, just maybe, she had something to offer after all.
And then the day came: her first real call.
The First Voice
The voice on the other end was soft. Nervous. A young woman in her twenties, crying because she felt invisible in her own life.
“I don’t need you to fix anything,” she whispered.
“Just… listen.”
So, Stephy did.
She listened.
She breathed with her.
She didn’t rush the silence. She didn’t try to fill it. She just stayed.
That call lasted forty-two minutes.
When it ended, Stephy sat in her chair and cried—not because she was sad, but because something inside her had shifted. For the first time in months, she felt seen, too.
Week by Week, Call by Call
The calls kept coming. Some were tough. Some were awkward. Some were filled with silence, and some ended with unexpected laughter.
Each one reminded Stephy of something she had forgotten; she wasn’t alone. The pain she thought had made her different, separate, broken—was the very thing that allowed her to connect with others on a deeply human level.
Over time, things began to change.
She started sleeping better.
She laughed more.
The heaviness didn’t go away completely, but it became more bearable.
Volunteering didn’t magically fix everything. But it gave her a reason to get up. A sense of purpose. A gentle kind of hope.
What Stephy Learned
We often think we have to be “whole” to help others. But sometimes, it’s our brokenness—the raw, honest parts of ourselves that make us the best companions for someone else’s pain.
By simply listening, Stephy found a way to start healing.
Not because she gave advice.
Not because she saved anyone.
But because she showed up. Fully. Quietly. Kindly.
The Real Gift
Volunteering isn’t just about helping others.
Sometimes, in the quiet act of listening, holding space, and simply being there, we begin to heal ourselves.
Because of the connection we offer others?
It often becomes the exact connection we were longing for, too.
Have you ever found healing in helping someone else?
If this resonates with you, we would love to hear your story. Tell us what you think about it in the comments or share this with someone who might need a reminder: you don’t have to be perfect to make a difference. You just have to show up.
