As a child, I had to figure out a lot of life on my own, so one of my adaptations was to become hyper self-reliant. I hid so much of myself and didn’t invite people into my inner world. I didn’t even go there myself for a long time. When I was younger, the idea of being truly seen was something I desperately wanted, while at the same time it scared the crap out of me.

Maybe you have your own version of this.

One of the things I’ve learned in recovery is that I need people around me. People who are further ahead on the path and people who are walking alongside me. That’s because we are all relational.

We long for connection and belonging. And it’s in the context of that longing that we experience our deepest wounds – because all of our childhood trauma happens in relationship.

So the experiences of relational betrayal, loneliness and shame happened in relationship, primarily with our parents or caregivers. The experience of keeping secrets and hiding our pain happened in relationship.

Because of that, it’s only in the context of relationships that those wounds can be fully acknowledged and healed. Trying to go it alone through trauma recovery won’t address those wounds. It can actually be a type of trauma repetition. For me, healing on my own would’ve been one more version of my hyper self-reliance.

We are wired for connection, but relational wounding can make deep connection feel risky. That didn’t start with you. It comes from what you learned about relationships, help, and support in childhood.

So, what do I mean by connection and support?

It’s about having people that walk alongside you and can be present with you. Particularly those that are in some kind of recovery themselves. Those folks are able to be with you in a different way because they’re connected with their own story, the felt experience of their trauma.

That doesn’t diminish the support that someone not in recovery has to offer. Friends who love you but haven’t done their healing work are just going to offer you something different.

Say you’ve had a difficult conversation with your mom, a therapy session where you’ve done deep work, or a conversation with your boss that triggered you. A friend who isn’t in recovery might, in a well-meaning way, try to fix things or just try to make you feel better. There’s nothing wrong with that intention, but it may not help you get connected to what’s really going on underneath.

But a fellow traveler will connect emotionally. You’ll feel felt, which is what most of us need in those moments.

I see this play out every week in the women’s group that I run. Each woman is doing her healing work. They connect with their felt experience from childhood, so when someone else is having big feelings, they aren’t scared or overwhelmed by that. They don’t try to shut down what’s happening for the other person.

They offer thoughts, feedback, and suggestions, but without bypassing the emotional experience.

When they challenge each other, it’s kind and relational, not adversarial. It’s an invitation to be curious.

They say what they notice. They ask thoughtful questions. They point out connections in each other’s stories. They also connect with and support each other outside of group.

All of that is drastically different from what any of them experienced in childhood, where they weren’t seen and heard, where their feelings were shut down.

And healing happens.

Walking with others on the journey has been life changing. Whether that’s my closest friends or people in my 12-step fellowship, I’m connected with people on a healing path. Having people who see me for who I am, who know me deeply, and knowing them in the same way, has reached the wounds of not having that in childhood.

I’m still growing in the area of reaching out for help, but I no longer live walled off and hidden in the ways that I used to.

If you feel nervous or freaked out, or shame comes up when you think of letting others help and support you, you’re in good company. It’s common for those who’ve experienced childhood trauma.

You may not have people like this in your life yet, other than your therapist, and that’s OK. Don’t try to rush or force community and connection. Stay as open as you can. It will unfold in the way that is right for you.

If you feel ready for deeper connection with others, a good place to start is Adult Children of Alcoholics and Dysfunctional Families (ACA). It’s a 12-step fellowship that focuses on experiences in your family of origin, whether or not alcohol was part of the picture.

And know that you have as much to offer others as they have to offer you. If you don’t believe me, I invite you to at least hold it as a possibility.

Photo by lena Enz on Unsplash