In our fast-paced, technology-driven world, it can become easy to lose sight of one of the most fundamental aspects of our human nature—social connection. As social creatures, we are biologically wired to connect with one another, create strong bonds, and form lasting relationships.
Our senses play a pivotal role in how we form, store, and retrieve memories. This is because the brain areas responsible for processing sensory input are closely linked to the regions that store and retrieve memories. The hippocampus, which organizes and recalls memories, works together with the amygdala, the emotional center of the brain. They ensure that emotionally charged events are more vividly stored in memory. This link exists for both extraordinarily painful and joyful memories alike.
When we talk about “trauma,” we’re talking about an emotional or psychological response to a distressing event or experience. It’s not necessarily the event itself that’s traumatic but rather the way it impacts a person’s sense of safety, stability, or identity. Trauma often leaves people feeling overwhelmed, helpless, or disconnected from themselves or others.
I often use Gottman’s Sound Marital House as a framework to help couples build strong, healthy relationships. This theory breaks down into several key components that can enhance connection and resilience. One skill that stands out to me is Shared Fondness and Admiration, which involves openly expressing appreciation and respect for your partner (or friend).
The importance of validation is something I emphasize with couples as it creates a dynamic based on understanding rather than score-keeping or proving right and wrong. In an emotionally charged conversation, it's common for individuals to focus primarily on their own emotional experience instead of their partner’s. Rather than listening to what the other person is saying, we may be thinking about our own response.
One of my favorite stages in a relationship is what I call the “couch stage.” You’ve been together for enough time now that every hangout doesn’t have to be planned and you can spend a day (or days…) just relaxing on the couch together feeling that sense of comfort and safety. For so many of us, that sense of security and safety is so relieving that it feels tempting to stay in that cozy bubble forever, not letting anything in that could threaten that experience.
I have always struggled with taking a break. Whether it’s scheduling an appointment midday, taking a self-care day, or going on vacation, I automatically experience guilt. However, as a therapist, I am constantly helping my clients carve out time for themselves on a daily, weekly, and monthly basis. It feels so clear when speaking to others that we must all step away from our daily lives and take time to recharge. Yet it’s been so hard for me to take my advice and FULLY step away.
The phrase “bids for connection” was coined by husband and wife couples therapy powerhouse Julie and John Gottman. A “bid for connection” is any attempt for connection made by one person to another. These bids can be verbal, non-verbal, overt, or covert. We make countless bids for connection throughout our days within all of our relationships. For this blog post, we are going to focus on how this applies to our romantic relationships.
In the last six months, I have experienced both the most joyous and most painful moments of my life, often in the same week, day, or even hour. I have cried holding friends and then found myself doubling over with laughter within the same embrace. I have celebrated unions of love while mourning those who weren’t there to celebrate with me. I have intellectually understood the concept that we can hold multiple emotions at once, but this year taught me to truly notice and appreciate the way my heart has been able to stretch in new ways to hold these intense, often conflicting experiences.
You’re lying in bed, staring at the ceiling, watching the clock tick, and you start counting the hours of sleep and panicking about the next day if you don’t fall asleep this very second. Is this a familiar experience to you? I know it is for me. All my life, I’ve self-described as “a bad sleeper.” I struggle to fall asleep, stay asleep, and wake up feeling energized. After years of trying different techniques with minimal success, I was introduced to Cognitive Behavioral Therapy for Insomnia (CBT-I).
Some of the most common first-session questions I hear in couple therapy are, “How long is this going to take?” and “How can we make the most of our time together?” In typical therapist fashion, my answer is usually a variation of “It depends” and to answer the questions with more questions, but I do share my observations from past experiences.
For years, I was embarrassed about this love for Taylor Swift. I downplayed how much energy, effort, and time I have dedicated to a person who has no idea I exist. On the other hand, this relationship (albeit one-sided) started when I was 12 and has remained strong for 15 years. Listening to her music has brought me an immense amount of joy, support, and connection. I’ve often wondered where the border of healthy vs. unhealthy is, leading me to discover the term “Parasocial Relationship.” A parasocial relationship “involves an enduring, one-sided connection between a viewer and a public figure.”
If I asked you to name a vulnerable emotion, joy doesn’t present as the obvious answer. Instead, we tend to think about shame, loneliness, anger, anxiety, and other more traditionally “negative” emotions. So how is joy potentially the most vulnerable emotion we experience? Brene Brown answers this question in her research about foreboding joy, which she defines as: “the experience of joy immediately followed by worry or dread.”
So many of us have experienced this confusing phenomenon of mixed emotions without an understanding as to what or why this is happening internally. The feeling is so widespread that many idioms have attempted to illustrate this particular experience: have you ever thought, “This is too good to be true” or experienced the feeling of “waiting for the other shoe to drop?” I know I have experienced this long before I had a name for it. I remember one particular instance where I was looking over at my partner with love and awe, only to have the feeling transform into fears about the end of the relationship and how devastated I would feel. I also remember the intense negative self-judgment I experienced, becoming frustrated that I couldn’t enjoy a good thing and had to ruin it with these intrusive thoughts. Learning about foreboding joy has been illuminating and validating when thinking back on these memories.
I hear this same self-talk in therapy sessions every day. I have clients who describe not wanting to get too excited about a new relationship, not wanting to settle into a sense of calm at a new job, and generally not wanting to let their guard down in case the positive experience doesn’t last. So, why do we do this? Why does dread often follow joy?
Have you ever confided in someone about a vulnerable topic, only to be met with some variation of “Don’t be sad” or “It’ll be okay!” While well-intentioned, these responses can be more harmful than helpful.
A couple of weeks ago, I realized I was in a funk. I started sharing my experience with a friend after working up the courage to ask for support, who immediately launched into a very cheery explanation of everything that makes her feel better that ended with “You’ll feel better in no time!” After the conversation, I was left feeling withdrawn and confused. Why had this made me feel worse? The advice she gave me (journaling, positive affirmations, headspace shifting, and exercise) was exactly what I would and have recommended to clients and friends. On top of that, I know she was trying so hard to help me and I felt ungrateful. The problem was, I KNEW all of the advice she gave me already, but it’s really hard to “just shift your headspace” or “just think positively” when you’re struggling to get out of bed. Whether or not it was her intention, the subtext I heard was that the way I was feeling was a choice I was making and I should just snap out of it.
When I first heard the term “toxic positivity,” it felt like an oxymoron. How could positivity be toxic?
