Tag Archives: connection


Meaningful connection. I am coming to understand that it is the life force that sustains me. I believe, with my whole self, that the moments where someone sees me for who I am, when someone completely ‘gets’ me, are the moments when I feel the safest in my life; grounded. I seek connection with people every time I am out and about. I seek connection in my daily interactions with co-workers, with the person I am dating, with friends, and with my children. When I cannot find it, or it does not satisfy or live up to my expectations, I am left feeling a bit panicky and, yes, disconnected.

If I am at a party or out with friends, and the conversation is trite and surface-level, I feel more alone. If I go a whole day without a check-in from the people in my life who really understand me and accept me for who I am, I feel scared and invisible. Connection is a need for me; it might be the most important and meaningful one in my life. Without it, I feel adrift. Without connection, I feel as if I am floating away, completely alone; with my intense thoughts and emotions. The most terrifying part of this is when I believe someone close to me sees me for who I am, intimately and deeply, and it turns out they don’t. That realization is like a fast and painful punch to the gut and it can leave me reeling for weeks and make me very wary of future interactions with that person. It hurts.

I don’t know how to sustain a conversation about work or the weather or hobbies. I don’t understand how to engage with people who don’t want to talk about relationships, life, love, hurt, pain, death, and the universe. Yes, I know I’m intense. I know I struggle with casual.

I have come to accept that part of the reason my marriage failed was because we forgot how to connect with each other. We stopped seeing each other as a couple and instead operated as a family. We stopped connecting as two people in love and in life. Our sex life suffered, our marriage suffered, our entire lives fell apart as we grew more and more distant. I know it was having children that broke us and, of course, it wasn’t their fault. It was our fault for not working hard enough to balance the family-life and our relationship outside of that unit. We broke; and the result was that our family broke too. I remember bringing our first child home from the hospital and sobbing. I was heaving with tears as I turned to my husband and said, “You and I will never be the same. It won’t ever be just you and I again.” I was scared. I sensed the immense shift; the permanent change in our relationship.

I was right. Nothing was ever the same for us again.

I think much of my need for connection is an INFJ thing. From a post by Koty Neelis on Thought Catalog:

INFJs get frustrated when they make an attempt to connect with someone and the person fails to share their enthusiasm. INFJs can read people extremely well, so when they make an attempt to connect with someone on a deeper level or discuss something that means a lot to them, they can instantly tell when the other person isn’t on the same wavelength as them. This leads them to wonder why they even bothered at all and makes them more hesitant to reveal other things about themselves in the future.

That blurb makes SO much sense to me. It helps me to find forgiveness for myself with something that worries and troubles me. It helps me to feel less alone. Why can’t I function without meaningful connection in my life? Does that mean I am frightened to be alone? That somehow I am not secure in who I am? This is something I am still puzzling through. I am trying to understand if this is an insecurity or completely valid and okay (I am trying to understand why I want to understand at all); I can never just let myself be. Sometimes I detest being an INFJ. I feel like a mistfit, a weirdo, and an outsider and none of those things feels good.

I long for connection. I am constantly searching for people who see the gaps between the cracks. Individuals who looks at the world from a different angle; a different lens. I want people who reflect back to me the version of myself that I know to be real; that I know to be true. I do this for people nearly everyday and it is rare that it is reciprocal in nature. I am looking for people I can let into my private, inner universe. That space that fills my heart and my soul. I long for these qualities in my friendships but more importantly in my intimate relationships. I deserve and want someone who chooses me every single damn day.

And I don’t think there is anything wrong with that.




Why is it so important?

Why does something so (seemingly) simple hold so much weight?

I know connection is what is missing from my life. Real, genuine, meaningful connection. I have interactions with other humans throughout my day; the small and the large variety of bipedal creatures. I am blessed with wonderful people that I chat with at work, online, on the phone. But those connections are brief and generally not diving into the deep end of the pool. We, as human beings, absolutely prefer the shallow end of things. We feel safest there.

The connection I am longing for is the one with that person you can bare your soul to and feel safe in doing so. That someone who is on your same wave length, gets you, and whatever crazy you might bring to the table. You can share anything and everything with this person and they not only hear you, they see you, and they validate you.

So, why do I need this? Why do you need this? Why do we all absolutely need this?

I think it is the sharing of ourselves, our emotions, and our stories with other humans that makes us feel seen. Sharing our deepest and most vulnerable selves is gratifying and authenticating. When we have people in our lives who hold space for us, for our most secret selves, we become whole. That connection becomes a mirror in which we can see ourselves more clearly. We feel accepted for who we are. We become more adept at diving into that deep end.

We all have very rich inner lives; busy brains. We feel, we think, we love, we hurt. When we share those most vulnerable pieces of ourselves and the stories and emotions that go with them (in a safe space) our ability to be vulnerable is validated and supported, thereby making room for more vulnerability in the future.

Vulnerability –> Connection/Validation –> Increased Vulnerability

And we know now, that a life lived in a vulnerable and aware state, is the best and only way to live, right? We know that a life lived on the surface of things isn’t living at all. Don’t be a watcher or a surface dweller! Be a participant! Get in and get dirty!

We all have deep insecurities we wrestle with. Shit we may not even admit to ourselves. When we allow vulnerability into our lives as a daily practice, we are making room for those parts of us that feel uncertain; unsafe. When I sit in a meeting with my fourteen 4-yr-olds at work and I cry, I tell them I am okay and that it is okay to cry.

I can cry on the phone with my sister now. It has taken me years to be able to do this. And I’ll tell you something, every time I cry and open up to her, I feel better.

With practice (sadly, I’ve had lots lately), I can bare my soul and my sadness to people and when they see me and hold space for me, it reinforces this fact: I know I will be okay. With every hurt and every gaping wound, I grow stronger and simultaneously more vulnerable. I feel and I share and I learn and I grow. It would seem that we have ourselves another paradox. Being vulnerable creates room for joy, pain, connection, growth, and strength.

I think that the connection I lost when my marriage ended has been the single most devastating part of this shit-show of a divorce. When you live with, and love someone for 16 years, you speak your own language, you have inside jokes that literally no one else would understand. I miss that like an ache in my chest. When that connection is severed, you are left reeling and wondering who the fuck you are without it.

I thought I had found the possibility of that again, just recently, and I opened myself up and allowed love and vulnerability back into my life. And now I am hurting again nearly as badly as I was last fall. And it’s the loss of the connection – the validation – that hurts the most.

This leads me down a path that I don’t want to go down. But trudge on, I must.

Shouldn’t I be okay without that connection? Shouldn’t I feel validated and whole on my own without someone externally reinforcing my sense of self? Yes? No? I don’t know???

I love being alone. I struggle with feeling alone. I love my independence. I struggle with not having anyone at home to talk to.

I shall investigate this further at another time when I am not so utterly exhausted. I will leave you with this little gem:

The other day I had a conversation with some lettuce.

I can’t believe I just admitted that.