Relationships

Understanding Disorganised Attachment in Adults Disorganised attachment is often described as contradictory, as though it's simply a pattern of mixed signals. Wanting closeness and then pushing it away. Or, seeking reassurance and then feeling irritated by it - maybe withdrawing just as contact begins to feel real. From the outside (even to ourselves), this can look confusing, but from the inside, it can feel deeply distressing. There is often a genuine longing for intimacy,

Many people who struggle with anxiety describe a childhood that, on the surface, appeared fairly ordinary. There may not have been a single defining event, at least not one that was named as serious at the time by adults. Yet there may have been raised voices behind doors, arguments that were quickly minimised, or moments that felt frightening but were later treated as ordinary. The atmosphere could shift without explanation, leaving a sense of something unsettled, inconsiste

Philip Larkin doesn’t ease you into This Be The Verse . He starts with a line that lands like a punch. Once read, it’s hard to forget, and most people know exactly what he means, even if they don’t like the way he says it. What the poem names, without apology, is the way damage moves through families. It starkly and concisely names how parents are shaped by their own histories, their own limitations, and their own unfinished pain. Larkin doesn’t bother softening this. He seem

Feeling like a burden to others is a deeply painful and often hidden experience. For many people, this belief does not arise when they are alone, but within close relationships. It can show up just as care is offered, when support is available, or when vulnerability might deepen connection. At these moments, an internal voice may quietly say, “I should not need this,” or “They already have enough to deal with.” This response is a meaningful adaptation shaped by earlier relati

In therapy, people often say they want more intimacy. What they usually describe, though, is a wish for closeness. More time together. Fewer silences. Less distance. A sense of being on the same page. Closeness matters as it helps us feel safe, connected, and soothed. It is built through reliability, shared routines, emotional availability, and knowing that someone will be there when we reach out. But intimacy is something a little different. Esther Perel speaks about intimac

Our nervous system is like an internal communication network, constantly scanning the world for signals of safety or danger. Most of the time, it operates quietly in the background, but when it perceives a threat, it can take over, shaping how we feel, think, and relate to others. The Autonomic Nervous System The autonomic nervous system (ANS) regulates involuntary functions such as heartbeat, breathing, digestion, and even pupil size. It has two main branches: Sympathetic Ne

During this year's Transform Trauma world conference in Oxford, Daniel Siegel (neuroscientist and author) said: “It looks like love is the fabric of the universe.”  At first listen, this sounded to me beautifully poetic, almost spiritual. But Siegel is speaking from decades of research into the brain, attachment, and human relationships. So what does it really mean? And why does it matter for our wellbeing, especially when we’re navigating trauma, stress, or disconnection? Wh

When we go through overwhelming experiences, it is not only our emotions that are affected. Trauma shapes how our brain works, how we relate to others, and how we experience ourselves. Dan Siegel, a psychiatrist and pioneer in the field of interpersonal neurobiology, has written widely about how our brains develop in the context of relationships and how trauma can disrupt this integration. At the heart of Siegel’s work is the idea that the mind, brain, and relationships are d

The nervous system is wired for survival. When we encounter threat, our bodies instinctively move into protective responses: fight, flight, freeze, or fawn. These are not conscious choices but deeply rooted biological reactions. One of the most overlooked and misunderstood of these is the flight response , the drive to escape danger by moving, doing, or avoiding. For many trauma survivors, this response doesn’t stop when the threat is over. It becomes a way of being. What is

In any close relationship, moments of misunderstanding, tension, or emotional distance are inevitable. Whether in therapy, family life, or intimate partnerships, there will be times when we feel unseen, misunderstood, or misattuned. In psychotherapy, these moments are referred to as ruptures . A rupture might be small, such as someone missing an emotional cue, or more obvious, such as a disagreement or withdrawal. While many people worry that a rupture means the relationship

Healthy, connected relationships are built not just on shared values or practical compatibility but on the ability to be emotionally present with one another. Many couples experience moments of disconnection even in loving relationships. These moments are often not due to a lack of love but a lack of emotional attunement. Emotional intimacy requires vulnerability. It involves the ability to name one’s internal state and feel seen, understood and accepted in return. When we ca

In Buddhist psychology, the root of suffering is often described as grasping  - the clinging to what we want, the resistance to what we don’t, and the struggle to control what is inherently impermanent. As Bhikkhu Bodhi (2000) explains, suffering arises not simply from pain itself, but from our relationship  to pain, our mental tightening around it. This ancient insight feels as true today as ever. Whether we’re clinging to a relationship, an identity, a belief, or a feeling,

When people think of therapy, they often imagine insight, strategies, or healing from past wounds. But at its core, therapy is a relationship. A human-to-human connection that, in many ways, becomes the vehicle for change. Psychiatrist and existential psychotherapist Irvin Yalom has long emphasised that the relationship between therapist and client is not just a backdrop for healing. It is  the healing. In his words, “It is the relationship that heals, the relationship that h

When we grow up in environments where instability is the norm, our nervous systems learn to adapt. In the absence of consistent care or predictable connection, we begin to draw our own conclusions about what love and safety feel like. We may learn, often without words, that intensity means closeness, that emotional unpredictability is just part of being in relationship, and that chaos is how love feels. These patterns are not choices. They are adaptations; ways our nervous sy