All Posts

When we hear the word connection, most of us immediately think about other people: our partners, children, friends, family, and communities. We think about belonging, being understood, and having people we can count on. But connection begins long before we reach for someone else. The way we relate to ourselves shapes the way we experience our emotions, and both influence how we show up in our relationships. The quality of our connections isn’t determined by how many people su

Not really. They’re about making a moment a moment. They’re about taking an otherwise ordinary experience and turning it into one of connection—whether by learning something you didn’t already know about someone else, connecting over similar answers, or disclosing something about yourself. When we share with others, it helps us make sense of things we didn’t quite understand yet. It brings clarity to experiences that once felt confusing. And when we hear from others, it remin

You can spend hours talking to someone and never feel any closer to them. So what makes a conversation substantial? It’s the kind of conversation where you walk away knowing something real was exchanged. Not because it was especially deep or serious. Not because it lasted for hours. Connection doesn’t come from the number of words spoken. It comes from authenticity, curiosity, and vulnerability. Here are three ways to make your conversations more meaningful: 1. Really listen

How do we lose our wonder? Is it slowly over time, or is it more instantaneous? Does it begin to deteriorate when we’re being rushed to put on our shoes or leave the house by our caregivers? By society shuffling us from one thing to the next and the next? By capitalism that tells us to work harder, do more, and leaves little to no time to rest? Is it that, as Americans, we have forgotten (or maybe never really valued) wonder to begin with? I don’t know if there’s one clear an

It’s easy to assume that connection is something you either have or you don’t. That it’s chemistry, compatibility, or something that simply exists with certain people and not with others. But in my experience, connection is much less mysterious than that. In most relationships, whether romantic or friendship, connection is built gradually in small moments of how we show up with one another. Connection grows through attunement. Through the quiet, often invisible process of not

Over the last couple of weeks—somewhere between fighting off illnesses, trying to create meaningful family memories, and surviving what felt like a Midwest snow apocalypse—I shut down. And I carried a lot of shame about that. It felt especially frustrating because this is a time when advocacy matters. There is so much happening in the world that calls for attention, action, and care. But as a trauma survivor, I can’t ignore how my nervous system and my body respond to extreme

I’m coming to realize that I don’t delight enough. Most likely, this is due to feeling distracted and living ten steps ahead — carrying so many roles as a woman, wife, mother, and entrepreneur. With so many things vying for my time and attention, I lose track of the beauty and joy of the things that are delightful. What brought this to my attention was being asked, “When was the last time you felt delighted in?” I noticed I didn’t know the answer. That question then led me

I have never felt more in the middle of my process at the beginning of a year than I do this year. Most years, as December rolls around, I feel the natural slowing down of things — the organic wrapping up of situations as the year comes to a close — while also feeling the excitement, possibility, and potential of what the next year may bring or what I want to embark on in January. I love both of those experiences. That is not what this year has held for me, and I’m acutely aw

As I’m looking into some of my own internal beliefs and struggles, I have come to see how important the connection between our behaviors and our beliefs about ourselves really is. In an ideal world, we would have parents that were attuned and compassionate and kind— parents that implant an internal knowing that “I matter and I’m loved.” For many of us, not only did that not happen, but the inverse did. We had parents who were jealous or preoccupied. Parents whose messages eit

So many of us know what it feels like to be ignored or misunderstood. We’re no strangers to the pain of not being witnessed to— of not being truly seen and heard. Being heard equates to being known, to being worth hearing. That’s something that we all deeply need. So how can we communicate this to someone? By being a good listener. We’re not just listening to the words someone is using; we’re listening to the words not being said— the emotions that are under the surface. It’