Desiring Connection is a Sign of Healing
One of the most profound shifts we can experience on a healing journey is the quiet return of a desire to connect. For those who have lived in a state of chronic stress, trauma, or survival, the simple pull toward socializing, toward reaching out, toward spending time with safe and supportive people is not only a sign of healing—it’s a testament to the nervous system beginning to feel safer.
When we’re in a state of high alert, our bodies are wired for protection, not connection. Our nervous system’s primary concern becomes survival, and anything that feels unpredictable or unfamiliar can trigger a sense of threat. This is why, during times of stress or trauma, we often withdraw, isolate, or close ourselves off from others. This isn’t a personal failing; it’s a natural response of a system doing its best to keep us safe. Trauma, especially, reshapes our relationship to the world and to other people, often making us wary of connection and more focused on defense.
The science behind this is rooted in the autonomic nervous system, which governs our fight, flight, freeze, and social engagement responses. When we feel unsafe, our sympathetic nervous system kicks in, sending signals that prompt us to either brace ourselves for a challenge or withdraw from perceived threats. But when we begin to feel safe—truly safe—our system shifts. We begin to move out of survival mode, and our body opens up to connection, an invitation from the parasympathetic branch of the nervous system that supports rest, relaxation, and social engagement.
Research in interpersonal neurobiology shows that human connection is not a luxury; it’s essential. Our nervous systems are wired to seek connection, to find regulation in the presence of others. Co-regulation—the way our nervous systems naturally synchronize and calm down when we are around supportive, kind people—is a vital component of this process. When we spend time with people who are emotionally attuned, safe, and trustworthy, our nervous system receives the message: “You are not alone. You are safe.” This message, though subtle, is deeply transformative.
From a somatic perspective, the body itself begins to soften as it realizes it no longer needs to brace against the world. This might show up as a release of physical tension, a softening in the face and shoulders, a deepening of the breath. Over time, as we cultivate relationships with people who help our bodies feel safe, we start to notice an organic desire for connection—a pull toward shared experiences, a readiness to be present with others, a willingness to trust again.
For many, this shift toward connection is accompanied by a kind of hesitancy. After all, if trauma or chronic stress has been a companion for years, even the desire to connect can feel vulnerable, even risky. But this hesitancy is part of the process. Healing isn’t about forcing ourselves into connection but allowing it to happen in its own time, honoring the nervous system’s pace.
The desire to connect is a signal from within that safety is becoming more familiar, that our bodies are slowly learning that not every relationship contains pain.
Feminist perspectives on healing remind us that this desire for connection also holds a form of resistance. In a culture that prizes independence, productivity, and self-sufficiency, choosing connection can feel revolutionary. Reaching out, seeking safe relationships, and building a supportive community is a way of saying, “I am not meant to do this alone. I deserve to feel supported, seen, and held.” For women, who are often socialized to prioritize others’ needs over their own, this shift can feel particularly radical—a reclaiming of the right to seek care, to trust, and to lean on others without shame.
So, as you begin to feel the pull toward connection, trust that this is a beautiful sign of your nervous system finding balance. Healing is not only about learning to self-regulate; it’s about learning to trust others enough to co-regulate. It’s about allowing yourself to be seen and known in ways that nurture you, that remind you that safety can be found not just in solitude but in relationship. This slow opening to others, this gentle reaching out, is as much a part of healing as any practice of self-care or self-reflection. It’s a signal that your body is ready to be part of the world again, to engage in the kind of relationships that restore and renew.
And remember, there’s no rush. Allow yourself to ease into this. Notice the people who make you feel warm, grounded, and understood. Pay attention to the spaces where your shoulders relax, where laughter feels easy, where your nervous system sighs in relief. Connection, when it’s safe, is a gift.