Cheering vs. Encouraging: How Language Impacts Recovery and Autonomy

It’s not always about the pep talk. Sometimes, it’s about the pause.

A lesson I learned years ago, that's just too important not to share.

I admit it. I'm a cheerleader.

I cheer my running group on at every event we attend. I like to pump them up, get them excited, and help fuel their energy. I want to motivate and uplift them before the race. During a marathon, when I shout encouragement to runners hitting their final 10k, the look of appreciation they give is beautiful. You can see the shift. The extra gear. Cheering can push someone over the finish line.

So you can imagine my surprise when I found out that not everyone enjoys the cheer. And that in some cases, especially in healthcare, it can actually cause harm to someone’s autonomy and self-worth.

This concept hadn't even crossed my mind previously. It stopped me in my tracks. I had to sit with the discomfort of that idea. I’ve always believed in the power of positivity. But with curiosity and an open mind, I decided to explore it further. And what I learned changed the way I show up, not just in work, but in life.

First, I had to determine why it works for athletes, but not for clients. Runners train in silence. They put in the lonely miles, they push through fatigue, and they develop a strong sense of internal motivation. When they get to the start line, they’ve earned their confidence. Their autonomy is intact. They know what their body is capable of and they’ve made the decision to be there. When we cheer them on, it adds energy, but it doesn’t define them.

In healthcare or recovery settings, the context is very different.

Individuals we work with haven’t chosen their current situation. Their independence has been interrupted. Their daily routines are often structured by others. Their bodies or minds might not respond the way they used to. And often, they’ve been through weeks, months, or even years of being “helped,” “treated,” and “managed.”

That can take a toll.

So when someone in a position of authority says “Good job!” or “You did it!”, even with good intentions, it can feel like approval is being handed down. Like their progress is being measured by someone else’s yardstick. For someone already struggling with their identity or self-belief, that can feel hollow or even disempowering. That realization shifted everything for me.

Cheering is rooted in excitement. But encouragement is rooted in respect.

It respects where someone is, what they’ve been through, and what they’re building for themselves.

Instead of “That was amazing!” Try: “You worked really hard on that. How did it feel to you?”

Instead of “I’m proud of you.” Try: “You must feel proud of yourself. What part are you most proud of?”

Encouragement invites ownership. It recognizes effort, not just outcome. It creates space for reflection and self-trust. And it puts the person back in charge of their journey, which is one of the most healing gifts we can offer.

It’s easy to default to cheering. We want to be supportive. We want people to feel good. But if we’re not careful, we may be unconsciously reinforcing the very thing they’re trying to rebuild: their independence.

I've seen this especially in brain injury rehab, but it applies across the board, in mental health, chronic illness, disability support, and even aging. When we over-celebrate small wins without checking in on how the person feels, we risk making it about our perspective, not theirs.

Encouragement is different. It’s slower. Quieter. It asks questions instead of offering praise.

It says: I see you. I respect your process. I believe in your ability to choose what comes next.

Key takeaways to bring into your practice (and life)

• Cheering can unintentionally center the professional. When we say “Good job,” it often puts us in the position of evaluator. Encouragement puts the client at the center.

• Autonomy is everything. Especially in healthcare, where people often feel like they’ve lost control, we have to be mindful of how we give it back—moment by moment, word by word.

• Encouragement supports long-term growth. When we help someone notice their own efforts and strengths, we strengthen their internal motivation, which lasts far beyond the moment.

• Language shapes healing. It’s not just what we say—it’s how we say it, and whether it empowers or unintentionally takes power away.

I’ll always be a cheerleader for my running crew. It’s where cheering belongs, where people already own their effort and are just looking for a spark to finish strong.

But in healthcare, I’ve learned something more powerful: encouragement doesn’t always need volume. It needs presence. It needs space. And it needs trust.

We don’t need to tell people they’re doing great. We need to help them believe it for themselves.

If you found this helpful and want to explore more brain health strategies, check out our other blog posts, sign up for our newsletter, or reach out. At Atlas Brain Health, we’re passionate about empowering people with practical tools and real knowledge because your brain health journey should be informed, supported, and totally yours.