Riding the wave: The emotional journey of a facilitator

Facilitators spend a lot of time holding space for others—navigating tough conversations, unlocking ideas, and keeping things on track. But what doesn’t get talked about as much is the emotional journey we go on too. 

Because facilitators aren’t furniture. We feel things. 

Sometimes we leave a session beaming. Other times, we’re googling “fun new career paths” from the parking lot. Because while the group is moving through something big... sometimes, so are we.

This blog offers an honest look at what it’s like to ride those waves—when it’s magic, when it’s meh, and why we keep showing up anyway. 

Neutral. Grounded. Detached. It’s what facilitators are supposed to be… right?

Sure—most of the time, we are. But here’s a secret: we feel things too. We’re not robots in a flipchart forest. Sometimes it’s a joyful, skip-through-a-meadow kind of journey. Other times, it’s more of a trudge-through-a-swamp-while-being-chased-by-mosquitoes kind of thing. This job? It’s a journey—for the group and for us.

It’s a part of the job that doesn’t always get talked about—but ask any seasoned facilitator and they’ll have stories (many, many stories) about the emotional rollercoaster this work can bring.

When the wave is just right

Sometimes, it’s incredible. The kind of experience that feels like catching the perfect wave—it curls just right, carries you effortlessly, and you step off with your hands in the air, a little breathless, a lot exhilarated.

There are those dream clients—the ones who show up with sincerity, curiosity, and a real hunger for meaningful change. One group of healthcare professionals comes to mind. The people were thoughtful, invested, and genuinely lovely to work with. You could feel the intention in the room. I wanted to bring my A-game. I wanted them to succeed.

I found myself vibrating—yes, literally vibrating—with how invested I was.

Before the session, we did a round of pre-interviews to get a feel for where people were at. One participant said something that really stuck with me. He said:

“My wife asks me about these meetings, and I tell her—‘We’re going to that really nice place where we get paid in good food and not much happens.’”

After the session, he came up to me and said:

“Do you remember what I said? You’ve really made something different happen here.”

My response?

“You were the benchmark in my head. If you weren’t happy, I hadn’t done my job.”

That was it—the high. I was delighted. That session had just the right mix of momentum, meaning, and mutual respect. And yes, there were some prickly folks in the room too (aren’t there always?). But the trust and goodwill let us go there.

That’s the kind of wave you ride all the way in, grinning.

When the wave doesn’t break

But not every wave breaks in your favour. Sometimes it builds just enough to get your hopes up—then fizzles before it ever reaches you. You’re ready, alert, tools in hand… and then, nothing. No lift. No ride. Just a slow, awkward bob back to shore.

Like the client who brought me in, paid the invoice—and barely used me. I showed up ready to contribute, ready to help. But the engagement never really happened. Maybe they weren’t ready. Maybe they didn’t trust the process. Either way, it was anticlimactic. I left feeling… meh.

Not because of ego. Because most facilitators are deeply invested in helping people do better work together. When you know what’s possible—what value you could have created—and it doesn’t happen, it’s hard not to take that to heart.

That investment? It’s real.

Quietly rooting for you

Even though we wear the badge of “neutral facilitator,” we’re often quietly rooting for our clients. We want them to work through the tough stuff. We want them to get the outcomes they’re chasing. And sometimes, that desire sits right alongside a healthy dose of nerves.

There are times I can feel it in my chest from the first phone call. A little buzz of anxiety. A whisper that says, “This one matters" or "This might be tricky” That’s usually when I know I’ll be doing my best work. Honestly, if I don’t feel at least a bit of nervous energy, I start to worry I’m phoning it in.

Still on the ride

Facilitators often walk a fine line—holding space with objectivity, while also being emotionally attuned and quietly hopeful for the group’s success. And while we’re not the protagonists in the story, we’re still on the ride. We’re still in it.

So yes, we’ll keep doing the inner work to stay grounded and focused. But don’t be fooled—we’re not just showing up with a process. We’re showing up with hope. With energy. With a quiet (sometimes not-so-quiet) determination that you get what you came for.

So if you’ve ever found yourself debriefing in the car after a session—buzzing from a breakthrough or drained from a dead-end—just know: you’re not alone.

Facilitation isn’t just about helping others ride their wave. Sometimes, we’re paddling right alongside them—catching the highs, weathering the wipeouts, and doing our best to stay upright through it all.

It’s a journey. For the group, yes. But also, sometimes, for us.

Photo by Photoholgic on Unsplash