I read the article below earlier today, and it landed hard. But it was something I needed to see. Something the Universe knew I was ready TO see.

I saw so much of myself in it.

I felt invisible growing up, an experience that continued throughout my life.

When I have been with others in my life, family and even friends from years past, I never really felt seen for me. I always felt I was a fixture – someone to fill in a space.

Like a book on a shelf – only that book was not something to open up and read.

No one wanted to know the contents on the INSIDE – only how it looked on the outside and that it had a “fancy enough,” or “appropriate enough,” or “acceptable enough” title to deserve the spot on the shelf.

Opening up those pages was something I continued to try to do with others, mostly with the wrong people, until I slowly began to isolate myself.

Human connection, in person especially, became something that, for my nervous system, felt unsafe. Even dangerous. And my protector grew louder, telling me “no, don’t do that” or “do you REALLY want to take that risk? Remember what has happened to you. Remember what COULD happen.”

Even though my nervous system decided “ENOUGH WAS ENOUGH” and put out systems of panic, anxiety, and other symptoms to avoid people, deep within, the part of me that is authentic and whole, calls out louder and louder for connection.

Connection with the right people. Those who are willing to open their own inner pages and share. Those who want to see my own inner pages.

Earlier this evening, I spent time playing the piano. So many songs I know and love to play. Often when I play, I am not alone. I am playing to an invisible audience. Sometimes I fill it up with people I know. I saw tonight that doing that leaves me feeling lonely, whereas over the past many years, it has felt safe. It’s been enough.

But tonight?

Tonight I realized I want more.

A shift had taken place.

I remembered how I used to feel playing for people.

Playing in public.

That is who I used to be.

That is who I want to bring out again.

All of this hit me quite hard, and I had to excuse myself to find quiet solitude in the other room where I could release tears.

I MISS that person.

I MISS who I used to be.

I MISS PLAYING MUSIC WITH OTHERS.

Out in public.

That connection.

I need connection.

Then I got angry.

Angry over the why and how I became this way.

As one who has experienced ongoing abuse, I slowly shut down inside. Isolated myself. Chose isolation over the possibility of being harmed. My nervous system and my body tell me: people connecting is dangerous. Giving your heart is dangerous. Being ME is dangerous. That abuse was like ongoing little knives to my nervous system and my body. Those little knives not only made me detach from taking risks and from connecting, but they also caused cognitive issues. Brain issues. Tummy issues.

Invisible injuries.

But deeply felt.

And very real.

The insidiousness of all of this left me feeling a rage tonight I hadn’t felt before. An interesting combination: remorse and rage.

The article below helped me see how and why I put myself on social media. I see why I come on here and pour my heart out. I see why the next day, if there are no comments or private messages, I have such powerful, palpable responses within my body. It’s almost like self-torture. Put myself out there expecting a certain result (connection that makes me feel safe and seen and protected), not getting the result, withdraw for a while, then repeat.

UGH.

Time to break that cycle.

Because real connection won’t happen this way. Not at the level of depth I need.

Not at the level of depth ANY of us need.

Surface connecting is a good place to start when I am shut down, not trusting – feeling afraid, and unsafe to open up my heart again. At some point, the risk must become stronger than the fear of keeping myself in a bubble, feeling safe enough, but not really connected.

After a lifetime experience of having my heart trampled on when I HAVE been ME, especially after 2016, Trump, and covid, where my personal belief system was so attacked, found so repulsive, people walked out of my life, I hesitate. Do I take the risk? Especially today? On top of the abuse I mentioned above and previous experiences throughout my life (feeling like a fixture), my nervous system began to say “enough”.

After 2016, I resorted more to going on social media and making my connections that way. Fewer problems there. No human emotion to be truly felt – only PRESUMED by me – meaning I get to control the emotional interaction – and if words do become harmful – I can fire back safely.

But what happens inside?

What is happening inside during all of this?

Longing.

Emptiness.

Wanting SO MUCH to connect but fighting the protector that is telling me “NO. THIS IS NOT SAFE. WE WILL NOT BE HURT AGAIN.”

We will not be hurt again.

The message within that I hear so much these days.

So, due to this lack of connection and feeling safe growing up, feeling seen, I go online looking to fill that void. This isn’t just something young people do as the article below asserts. People of all ages do this. And while this allowed me to find so many people, including some of you, who share the same perspectives and opinions, I know I want that connection in person.

NEED it.

I didn’t know that this (social media) was not the ultimate way TO fill that void. Or perhaps I did, and I just chose to dismiss it.

While it can be a tool, the start TO build a sense of safety through connecting, ultimately to truly rebuild my nervous system’s need for safety, this needs to be done with in-person connection with people who have shown me and my nervous system that they are safe – that they are trustworthy, while also building my own sense of self, where I trust myself enough to know if a relationship ends, I have enough of my own solid foundation, where I know I can build again.

So…I do appreciate this piece below. I was thinking before I even read it – how back in my parents’ day, couples got together. Played cards. Played games. Went dancing. Bowling.

I don’t remember any of them ending relationships over politics or arguing over what the media pundits were saying at the time.

Something got lost along the way.

Something that started after the introduction of the internet and social media.

Then things began to change in 2016 after that election. A division took place.

And it’s been growing ever since.

And then something really happened during covid, with the media hype pushing fear 24/7, we got programmed to fear one another.

Virtual phone calls took the place of in-person gatherings.

Telehealth flourished and continues today. It is actually a challenge now to find counselors who will see you in person.

COUNSELORS.

The people who are supposed to be trained in the social and biological needs of human beings, including one of the top needs of CONNECTION.

A new collective trauma was formed.

And we still have not healed from it.

But we can begin the process.

And to do that, we can show up for one another and listen.

See.

And remember what it was like to truly connect without letting things like politics and media-pushed narratives interfere with our need to just hang out, laugh, and play a game of cards.

******

Trauma Aware America

Shay Seaborne

When people grow up without reliable experiences of being seen, known, and meaningfully connected, the self becomes fragile. 

The “loud ego” is often not a sign of inner strength but a compensatory response to a profound internal void: an attempt to feel real, valued, or powerful in a world that has failed to offer those feelings through stable, nourishing relationships.

As interpersonal safety declines–due to factors like family instability, economic precarity, competitive schooling, and social disconnection–many young people turn to performance and visibility as a survival strategy.

Social media offers a measurable form of attention that mimics connection. It rewards projection over authenticity, and encourages constant self-curation rather than mutual presence.

This rise in external validation-seeking isn’t a moral failure. It’s a signal. It tells us that something essential is missing: safe relationships, community reflection, shared meaning, and rituals of belonging that support the formation of a coherent, grounded self.

Influencer culture has become a stand-in for what our nervous systems actually crave: to feel felt, to matter, and to experience resonance with others. But instead of co-regulation, it offers metrics. Instead of depth, it offers reach.

Until we rebuild environments where people feel known from the inside out, not the outside in, we’ll continue to see loud egos and the suffering behind them, rising in the cultural tide.