Belonging: Feeling Loved, Comfortable, and Safe

By Paul Carlo

Personal connections that leave people feeling a sense of being cared about and valued, with a true sense of belonging and being wanted, is something most of us include when listing the kinds of things that lead to feeling happy and fulfilled. Yet many of us don’t have the kinds of close relationships that leave us feeling deeply cared about and understood. Dr. Carlo has created this book with the intention of empowering others to understand how to enrich their lives in ways that will result in their feeling more confident in their social experiences, comfortable, safe, and loved.

• Language: English
• Publisher: Xlibris US
• Release date: Mar 31, 2019
• ISBN: 9781796025088

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Copyright © 2019 by Paul Carlo.

Library of Congress Control Number:   2019903837

ISBN:             Hardcover               978-1-7960-2510-1

                       Softcover                 978-1-7960-2509-5

                       eBook                      978-1-7960-2508-8

All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reproduced or transmitted in any form or by any means, electronic or mechanical, including photocopying, recording, or by any information storage and retrieval system, without permission in writing from the copyright owner.

Any people depicted in stock imagery provided by Getty Images are models, and such images are being used for illustrative purposes only.

Certain stock imagery © Getty Images.

Rev. date: 04/08/2019

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CONTENTS

Introduction

Catalyst

Chapter 1

What Science Teaches Us About The Need For Connection

DNA, Genetics, and Evolution

Chaos and Order

Chapter 2

The Link Between Survival And Connection

We Arrive on the Scene

We Search for Answers

The Benefits of a Secure Base

The Importance of Positive Touch

Chapter 3

The Role Of Personality

Behavior and Purpose

The Influence of Interpersonal Experiences

The Influence of Sociopolitical Experiences

Chapter 4

Embracing The Need For Community

Creating Social Interactions in Changing Environments

Chapter 5

The Pursuit Of Happiness, Romance, And Love

Our Search for Romance and Love

The Power of Destructive Anxiety

Shadow-Selves

Chapter 6

The Paradoxical Effect Of Electronic Communication

Chapter 7

Learning To Forgive

Completing Unfinished Business

Forgiving Others

Letting Go of Resentment, Fear, and Pain

Chapter 8

Achieving Successful Connection

Gaining Self-Understanding

Dreams: A Gateway to Self-Awareness

Create Time for Yourself

Act on Your Own Behalf

Be Fully Present

Connecting Well to Others

Stay Engaged

Talk to Those Around You

Pay Attention

Focus on Strengths

Chapter 9

Obstacles To Successful Connection

The Need to Control

Fear of Commitment

Bullying

Insisting to Be Loved in a Particular Way

Loving with Conditions

Chapter 10

Successful Disconnection

The Inevitability of Separations and Endings

Coping with Mortality

Letting Go and Saying Goodbye

Resolution

To

Cecily and Jonathan

And…

With deep gratitude to all the personal and spiritual relationships I’ve had in my life until now, and to all those I will be having in the future.

INTRODUCTION

As a psychotherapist in private practice, I see many people at various stages of life—from young adulthood to advanced age—seeking help because of a common theme. They feel troubled by an uncomfortable sense of loneliness, of internal isolation and uneasiness, even though from an external point of view many of them have what most people would see as markers of a successful life: academic, vocational or professional accomplishments, and generally good health. Still, even those who have many social contacts, feel somehow dissatisfied. Most of them have read one or more self-help books about relationships and happiness but haven’t discovered why they feel unfulfilled and unimportant to others who play a significant role in their lives. They can’t put their finger on it, but they feel a deep longing for something more, something else. They tell me they feel unable to experience true joy in how they live their lives, or to feel happiness and confidence about who they are and the choices they make. They are constantly bothered by second thoughts and find themselves replaying conversations they’ve had and wishing they had handled them differently. Although they are not literally alone, still they feel lonely a lot of the time.

This hunger for whatever it is that will bring a sense of purpose and meaning to their existence often leaves even those who are in a committed relationship with another person, still feeling like something important is missing. For many, the most distressing part of all is they even feel a distance from themselves, a sense of not knowing who they are or what they really want from life. It is very difficult for them to live in a fully present state of mind, to be in the moment, so to speak. Instead, they seem constantly distracted, unable to fully experience and enjoy whatever is good and fulfilling around them. Worst of all, some tell me they don’t feel truly loved for who they are and, more to the point, they don’t feel lovable.

As I talk with them, I’ve come to realize that overall, what seems to be missing in their lives is a sense of truly belonging, of feeling comfortable and safe. They seem to lack the ability to establish and maintain personal connections that feel authentic and meaningful over the long term. The kind of relationships that are personal, intimate, and safe on many levels; interactions with the world around them that consistently leave them feeling understood and cared about, wanted, and needed. People feeling this kind of alienation are longing for the kind of personal connections that could give them a secure sense of fitting in, of being wanted, of belonging.

If this sounds somewhat familiar to you, it’s because these feelings are not just the exclusive experience of people who go to a professional to seek help with their emotional lives; lots of other people feel this kind of uneasiness too. Often when I mention the issue to members of my family or to my wider circle of social contacts—my friends or colleagues—their response of recognition and awareness tells me this is a more widely felt problem than I had previously realized. In fact, it seems we are divided into two groups. The first group is those of us who seem able to comfortably and eagerly seek to connect to others and seek (and usually gain) reciprocity in their relationships with colleagues, friends, or loved ones. The second group is those of us who are overly cautious about personal relationships, do not feel generally trusting or safe in the presence of others, find it difficult to connect well, and find ourselves feeling alone much of the time.

Despite how hard it is to live with feelings of discomfort and a lack of hopefulness about not connecting well with others, we can achieve more comfortable and pleasant experiences in our personal relationships. There is a way to solve this problem. In the following pages, we will look at a variety of environmental, social, and personal aspects of our daily lives that contribute to our feeling alone, ill at ease, and unconnected. We will talk about how to examine our behavior at crucial decision points and explore alternate behaviors that will result in the emotionally safe and satisfying relationships and a state of mind we all so much desire and deserve. All of us can learn the art and skills necessary to develop and keep satisfying and deeply caring personal relationships with others and experience the feeling of personal power that comes with that accomplishment.

Catalyst

Every creative effort requires an initial boost—something to set the process in motion. That push, the enabling element for this work, emerged as I sat in my Santa Monica office on a warm summer afternoon, enjoying a short work break, and consciously thinking about nothing at all. Suddenly, I flashed to a February snowstorm in New Jersey.

I am four years old. I can see myself standing on the cold sidewalk, holding my grandmother’s hand, waiting for the bus. It is snowing, and the wind is blowing. I am short, and the snow is up to the top of my rubber boots. A quick gust of icy wind almost knocks me over. My grandmother extends her arm and with that hand flares open her big fur coat—with the other arm she scoops me in closer to her and wraps the coat around me. And, in an instant, I feel at one with her, safe in the snowstorm, safe in the universe—seamlessly joined. I feel securely attached and connected to her. I know that I belong, that I am not alone.

So there I was, like a little cub nestled up against the mama bear, her thick furry coat sheltering me from the snow and wind, feeling the warmth of her presence; that bonding moment—through a gesture, a touch, the words I love you—played out without needing to be spoken. As I recount this event, I find myself feeling safe and warm and close all over again, and I am reminded that sometimes at the time of remembering an important event, everything can seem to be in the present tense.

The reemergence of the warm feelings the memory of being with my grandmother in the snowstorm brought back to me, made me realize that I wanted to understand more about the process that made the original experience possible, and to share the elements of that process with you. All of us deserve to have a better chance of creating and sustaining the kinds of connections that lead us to safe, secure, and lasting relationships; relationships that are built on unconditional love and acceptance.

What are the conditions that contribute to the lack of fear we feel when experiencing the comfort of secure human connection? How do we break it down? How can we balance the need to be both separate from others and yet together at the same time? Why do we sometimes feel alienated and dissatisfied—the feeling that something is missing from our lives, even when in outward appearance it seems like we have all we need to be happy? We can’t seem to put our finger on it; we don’t quite know what’s wrong, but we still feel a deep underlying yearning for something more, or something else. Even those of us who see ourselves as highly social by virtue of being constantly electronically connected to others, often feel a kind of untethered anxiety and an inability to enjoy (or even just to tolerate) any extended periods of being alone and not digitally in touch with others. Our personal online relationships are plentiful, so much so that they sometimes seem easily interchangeable—and yet we don’t really feel known and understood. Why is that?

Like the answers to most questions that are important to us, the answer to this one requires us to look back at where we began, to see how we progressed and became the wonderful kind of curious and connection-seeking creatures we are today. I believe that the answer is inextricably linked to our capacity to connect well to others and to the world around us. The answer becomes clearer when we look back at how we humans have evolved into the interesting beings we are today.

CHAPTER 1

My life is part of every other life. My connection to all living things makes it impossible that I have enemies. I feel no need to oppose, resist, conquer or destroy.

—Depak Chopra

What Science Teaches Us About The Need For Connection

DNA, Genetics, and Evolution

Have you ever seen a champion athlete do a victory dance after a great success—such as completing a winning touchdown, hitting the home run that wins the pennant for their team, or capturing one or more gold medals at an Olympic event—arms reaching for the sky, jumping up and down, chest puffed out? It not only displays their joy and excitement, it also adds to ours, boosts our collective enthusiasm, and helps all of us who were rooting for them feel a part of the victory and the celebration. It’s a behavioral response that goes way back in recorded history and cuts across cultures, generations, related species, (and maybe even across planets).

Scientific observation has shown that other primates, like the chimps, do it too. It’s genetic, it’s in our shared DNA. The genome sequence between humans and chimps is 95–98 percent the same. Certainly, that 2–5 percent difference is very significant and makes for enormous differences between ourselves and other primates. We have a larger brain. We can foresee the consequences of our actions, and we have a moral sense that other animals don’t seem to have. Some of us believe there is a spiritual essence unique to human beings that sets us apart, in a very important way, from all other forms of life. That said, the fact seems to be that the differences between us may not be as vast as some of us would like to think.

In many ways, we are similar to all other living creatures; in many ways, we are very connected to them. All of us are programmed to survive; and we are not alone in our desire to bond, to become attached and mutually reliant on others. If you doubt this, just ask anyone who has a companion pet to tell you about it. All pets are important, and (hopefully) loved and cherished; but especially with companion pets, those who respond when we call their name, who we can touch, stroke, or pet, and who will literally eat out of our hand, there usually develops a very special kind of relationship. With them, we form an important mutual bond, a connection that is much more than just simple dependency. There is an exchange between us, a kind of dual-effects relationship. We don’t just take care of and give to them, we also get from them in return.

When we observe animals in the wild, away from the influence of people, we also see a demonstrated proclivity to attach, to connect, to bond to each other; and usually not just for the purpose of mating and reproduction. Listen to what happened after a tsunami separated a one-year-old baby hippo from its mother and herd in Africa. Hippopotamuses are very social animals. They typically stay with their mother for about four years. In Mombasa, Nairobi, a year-old baby hippopotamus was swept down river and then forced back to shore again when tsunami waves struck on December 26, 2015. It solved the dilemma of losing its mother and finding itself stranded by adopting a 100-year-old tortoise to be its new (foster) mom. It began to follow the tortoise around, swim with it, sleep with it, eat with it. The tortoise accepted this new youngster as if it were her own, and the two are now constant companions, now they belong to each other. Despite all the obvious differences between them, they have become a surrogate family.

The desire to connect in this way is not the only instinctual response we share with other living creatures. We are somewhat similar in many other behaviors as well. We are not unique in having language to communicate with our own kind, not unique in teaching our young the basic skills of survival, not unique in mating for life—lots of other species do those things too. And we are not unique in the capacity for self-recognition. From