I never realized how judgmental I was until I tried these 7 empathy-building exercises

It started during a parent workshop I attended at my son’s school. The facilitator, a calm psychologist with kind eyes, asked everyone to write down a time they felt misunderstood.

My pen hovered over the paper, but nothing came. Then she told us to write about a time we misunderstood someone. Suddenly, my hand moved quickly across the page.

By the end of that session, she spoke about how judgment gets in the way of genuine connection and encouraged us to practice empathy through a few simple exercises. I promised myself I would try them all.

At first, I was confident. I thought I was already an understanding person. But when I started doing the exercises, I saw how often I formed quiet opinions about others. I had no idea how automatic it had become.

Over the next several weeks, I decided to turn empathy into a small personal project. What I found was surprising, uncomfortable, and sometimes funny. It helped me see people more clearly and softened how I viewed myself too.

Here are the seven empathy-building exercises that changed the way I see the world.

1. Listen to understand, not to reply

The first challenge was to truly listen. Not half-listen while mentally drafting my next sentence. Not nod while silently deciding what advice to give. Just listen.

One evening, my husband started talking about a work conflict. Normally, I would interrupt to offer solutions.

That night, I kept quiet and focused only on what he was saying. I admit, at first, it felt unnatural. My brain wanted to jump in. But as he kept talking, I noticed something I had never paid attention to before: the emotion underneath his words.

It made me wonder just how much I’d been missing all this time. Maybe I’d been too distracted that I was only able to register what was on the surface, completely missing any underlying sentiments he might have had.

Listening to understand is more than being silent. It’s about setting aside the need to be right or helpful and creating space for another person to feel seen. It’s simple, but it can transform the energy in a conversation.

2. Step into stories different from your own

The next exercise was about deliberately exploring lives unlike mine. I joined a book club that focused on memoirs from different cultures.

The first book was written by a refugee who fled her country with her children. Reading her story opened something inside me. It made my everyday frustrations look small.

That experience reminded me how limited my view of the world had become. I realized that empathy isn’t only about how we treat the people around us. It’s also about stretching our minds to include those we may never meet.

Stories are powerful teachers. They pull us out of our own perspective and into someone else’s world.

Now, when I meet someone whose choices confuse me, I ask myself, “What story might explain this?” That single question can dissolve judgment before it hardens.

3. Practice “micro-pauses” before reacting

This one felt almost too simple to matter: take one conscious breath before reacting to something that irritates you.

But turns out, it was actually truly useful while also being so easy to implement. 

I tried it during rush hour traffic. A car cut in front of me without signaling. My hands tensed on the wheel, ready to honk like I usually do. But thanks to the exercise, I did something different. 

One deep breath in. One slow breath out. My heart rate steadied, and the urge to honk disappeared.

Later, I practiced the same thing with my son when he snapped at me while doing homework. Normally, I would have snapped right back.

Instead, I paused. That small breath gave me a moment to notice his frustration instead of just hearing his tone. My calm helped him calm down too.

A micro-pause doesn’t erase irritation. It simply stops it from running the show. That small moment of awareness creates room for compassion to enter.

4. Ask questions that open, not close

I didn’t realize how often I used questions to make a point instead of understanding someone. The exercise challenged me to ask questions that invited the other person to share more.

During a dinner with friends, someone brought up a political topic I disagreed with. My body stiffened immediately. The old me would have jumped in with counterarguments, but this time, I chose to stay curious. I asked, “Can you tell me what shaped that belief for you?”

Her entire expression softened. What followed was a genuine exchange. Neither of us convinced the other, but both of us left feeling respected.

At work, I tried this with a colleague I often found difficult. Instead of assuming she was stubborn, I asked, “How do you see this situation playing out?” To my surprise, she offered insights I hadn’t considered.

Good questions open doors. Bad ones shut them. Empathy grows best when curiosity takes the lead.

5. Observe your inner commentary

By the fifth exercise, I was starting to notice that many of my judgments never leave my head.

They come quietly: about a stranger’s outfit, a parent’s tone, a friend’s choice. None of these thoughts seem serious, but over time, they become a filter that colors everything I see.

I began keeping a small empathy journal. Every time I caught myself judging, I wrote down what triggered it and what it might say about me.

Patterns emerged. The things I judged most harshly were often traits I disliked in myself, such as impatience, insecurity, overthinking. That realization stung a little, but it also freed me.

When I notice that inner commentary now, I don’t scold myself. I simply say, “Interesting,” and move on. Awareness breaks the cycle. The more I notice my judgments, the less control they have over me.

6. Try “perspective swaps” in daily life

This exercise invited me to imagine myself in someone else’s shoes before reacting. It sounded idealistic, but it turned out to be one of the most practical habits of all.

For instance, one afternoon, I stood in line at a café when a woman rushed ahead of me to grab her order. My first instinct was irritation.

Then I remembered the perspective swap. I pictured being her — maybe late for work, maybe overwhelmed, maybe having a rough day. My frustration dissolved almost immediately.

I also began using this at home. When my younger son throws a tantrum, I imagine what it feels like to be a child and powerless over your day. That small mental shift helps me respond with empathy instead of authority.

Perspective swapping is not about guessing someone’s life story. It’s about softening your own. The moment you consider another angle, compassion becomes possible.

7. Learn from your body’s reactions

The last exercise surprised me the most. It was about listening to the body. The facilitator explained that our bodies often register emotions before our minds do.

At first, I thought it sounded abstract, but I tried it anyway. When I spoke to a friend who was upset, I felt a heaviness in my chest. When she began to laugh again, that heaviness lifted. My body mirrored her emotions like a quiet reflection.

Now, I pay attention to what my body tells me. Tight shoulders mean resistance. A relaxed belly means openness. My body shows me where empathy is flowing and where it gets stuck. It has become one of my greatest teachers.

I was recently reading Rudá Iandê’s book, Laughing in the Face of Chaos: A Politically Incorrect Shamanic Guide for Modern Life, and one line from it beautifully echoed what I had already come to see through this exercise:

“Your body is not just a vessel, but a sacred universe unto itself, a microcosm of the vast intelligence and creativity that permeates all of existence.”

His words reminded me how wise the body truly is and how much empathy depends on being present within it.

What all this taught me

By the end of these weeks, I didn’t feel transformed, but I did feel changed in quiet ways.

I began noticing subtleties in how people speak, move, and express emotion. Conversations became gentler, even with strangers.

When I catch myself forming quick opinions now, I try to pause and ask, “What might this person be carrying that I can’t see?” That single question helps me meet the world with a little more grace.

Empathy is not always easy. It asks us to stay open in moments we would rather close off. It invites us to choose understanding over speed. But every time we do, something softens in the air between us.

We all crave to be understood. Maybe the first step is to start offering that same gift to others.