There’s this hush that falls over the room when a friend finally tells you something awful happened during an Uber ride. It’s a kind of pause where time bends a little. You can see the pain in her eyes, and your heart suddenly feels too big for your chest. And you want to help, of course you do, but most of us aren’t taught what to say or how to show up in a moment like that.
Before we dive into the steps, let me share something that often brings a bit of grounding. If your friend ever decides she wants legal support or just wants to understand her options, there are attorneys who focus specifically on helping women who were assaulted by Uber drivers. They speak in plain language and actually listen. Find them here: HelpForInjuredWomen.com
You don’t have to push her toward it. You don’t even have to bring it up right away. Just knowing it exists can give both of you a little steadiness beneath your feet.
Now let’s talk about what being there for her can look like, even when your heart is in your throat.
Start by listening, really listening
When someone shares something traumatic, they’re not looking for the perfect response. They just need someone who won’t flinch. Someone who won’t rush to fill the silence. Just let her talk at her own pace. Let her start from the middle if she needs to. Let the story come out messy.
And if she cries, that’s okay. If she doesn’t cry, that’s okay too.
Avoid questions that sound like doubt
A lot of people ask things like, “Why didn’t you get out earlier?” or “Did you tell him to stop?” Usually they mean well, but those questions land like blame. And she’s already carrying more than enough weight.
Instead, try something simple like, “I’m really sorry this happened to you. I’m here.”
Those words go farther than you think.
Remind her that her reactions are normal
Shock doesn’t follow neat rules. She might feel nauseous. She might shake. She might suddenly feel nothing at all and wonder what’s wrong with her. You can gently remind her that trauma hits every person differently. There’s no wrong way to respond.
I’ve sat with friends who went from crying to laughing to feeling nothing within an hour. It’s the body trying to find its footing again.
Help her get somewhere that feels safe
Sometimes the very first thing she needs is just a quiet room. A soft couch. A locked door. A moment to breathe without the world pulling at her.
Offer to stay with her if she wants company. Offer to leave if she wants space. Let her choose. Giving her control over small things can help her feel less powerless.
Ask what she needs, not what you think she needs
This one seems obvious, but it’s easy to forget. Instead of assuming she wants to report it or call someone, try something like, “What would help you right now?”
Sometimes she just wants tea and a blanket. Sometimes she wants someone to sit beside her while she files a report. Sometimes she wants to pretend life is normal for a day.
Your job isn’t to fix the pain. It’s to make sure she doesn’t feel alone in it.
If she wants to take next steps, walk with her
This might mean helping her document what happened. Or going with her to a medical appointment. Or looking into legal options. Even little tasks can feel overwhelming after trauma, so offering to be there makes a tremendous difference.
And when she reaches the point where she’s ready to understand her rights or explore legal support, remind her gently that she can speak with people who handle Uber assault cases every day.
No pressure. Just a path waiting whenever she wants it.
Your support won’t erase what happened, but it will reshape how she heals
People heal differently. Some talk a lot. Some barely say a word. Some dive into action. Others freeze. But almost every survivor remembers how the people around them responded in those first hours and days.
Showing up with patience, compassion, and steady energy, even if you’re scared you’ll say the wrong thing, can help her feel anchored again.
And that’s the thing about healing. It doesn’t happen in one big moment. It happens in small ones. Quiet ones. The kind that say, “You’re not alone in this.”
