Loneliness, Belonging, and Mental Health Awareness

by Kristin | Grief and Loss, Transformation

Belonging Isn’t Bestowed—It’s Grown

What loneliness, nervous system science, and a little girl in love with a tree can teach us during Mental Health Awareness Month

Belonging isn’t a luxury. It’s a fundamental human need—a biological and psychological state where we feel seen, valued, and connected as part of a group or community. It allows us to thrive, not just survive.

And yet…

Over half of Americans report feeling lonely. Not just alone, but lacking meaningful connection, even in relationships.Some even acknowledge a withdrawal from efforts to engage socially

Loneliness is now considered a public health crisis. In 2023, the U.S. Surgeon General issued an advisory naming social disconnection as a serious threat to public health, on par with smoking 15 cigarettes a day. The research is sobering: chronic loneliness increases our risk for heart disease, stroke, depression, anxiety, dementia, and even premature death.

So if you feel like you’re missing a sense of belonging—you’re far from alone. In fact, you’re in crowded (and likely quiet) company.

But here’s the thing…

Belonging isn’t something we earn by performing or perfecting. It’s not bestowed upon us by an external source.

Belonging is a verb.

It’s something we practice.

It grows, like a root system—slow and unseen at first, then quietly anchoring us into life.

Acknowledge the Longing

The first step? Naming the ache.

Admitting we long for belonging can feel scary, especially in a culture that worships independence and stoicism. If you grew up Gen X (or earlier), you might’ve internalized the myth that asking for connection = weakness.

I call B.S.

Craving connection is human.

Owning that ache is powerful.

It’s the moment we start shifting from self-protection to self-honoring.

Why We Struggle

There are a few sneaky culprits that get in the way of feeling like we belong:

1. The Risk Regulation Theory

Our nervous systems are wired to scan for social threat:
Is this group safe? Will I be rejected? Should I stay quiet just in case?

This hypervigilance once helped us survive. But in modern life, it often leads us to silence our truth or disconnect before anyone else can.

This is healthy, but with the caveat and knowledge that we tend to believe our own biases.

2.) Acceptance Prophecy

When we assume others like us, we tend to be warmer, more open, and engaged. This leads others to respond positively in return—reinforcing the connection we originally hoped for.

It’s a self-fulfilling prophecy. Unfortunately, so is the opposite.

3. The Liking Gap

Studies show that people generally like us more than we think they do. But many of us walk away from interactions overanalyzing and assuming we were “too much” or “not enough.” This keeps us from trying again.

4. The Beautiful Mess Effect

We assume vulnerability will make people judge us. But research shows the opposite: when we share our realness, people are more likely to see us as relatable, courageous, even endearing.

A Little Girl and a Tree

There is a story about a little girl who regularly visited an old-growth tree near her home. She ran straight up to it, arms open, and declared: “I love you! I’m so glad you’re here!” Over the years she made that tree her shelter, whispered her secrets to the leaves, leaned up against the bark to do her homework and nap in the sun.

She didn’t wait for permission.
She didn’t try to blend in.
She belonged herself to that place—with joy, vulnerability, and delight.

This story reminds me: belonging begins with how we show up.

Belonging is a verb - holding hands with nieces in front of the big tree

Belonging and Mental Health

During Mental Health Awareness Month, it’s crucial we name this truth: disconnection is more than emotional pain—it’s a risk factor.

When we feel like we don’t belong anywhere, it chips away at our self-worth. It fuels shame, isolation, and despair. And it makes it harder to reach for support when we need it most.

The antidote isn’t forced socializing or shallow positivity. It’s cultivating real belonging—rooted in self-acceptance, aligned community, and nervous system safety.

And that kind of belonging?
It’s not instant.
But it is possible.

So What Can You Do?

If you’re longing for belonging, here are a few ways to begin:

Choose a group, activity, or space you’re genuinely willing to invest effort in. Belonging takes time. It doesn’t grow from one-off meetings—it grows from consistency.
Assume your importance—What if the group already wants what you offer? Walk in like your presence is a gift. Because it is.
Don’t force it. Don’t rush it. Belonging takes time and consistency.
Let it be discerning. You’re not just looking for any place to fit. You’re looking for alignment. Listen for resonance, not just availability.
Give your gifts. Your quirks, your stories, your love for weird little things? Let them be visible. That’s how we find our people.
Ask yourself:

What if I acted like I belonged here?
What if I showed up like I was wanted?
What if I believed others already valued me?

Practice This with Curiosity

You don’t have to join a hundred groups or bare your soul to strangers. Start small:

Send a “thinking of you” text to someone you care about.
Join a class or circle that sparks curiosity.
Share a bit more of yourself in one safe place.
Ask someone what they love—and really listen.

Journal Questions

What would it look like for you to belong yourself?
To act like your presence matters?
To risk being seen?
To sit next to someone and ask what they love?

This is how we begin to belong to ourselves—so we can also belong to each other.

These aren’t just actions. They’re invitations.

Each one is a seed. And belonging grows in the soil of gentle courage.

You Matter Here

If you’re still reading, I want you to know: your longing is sacred.
Your presence matters. Your story matters. You don’t have to hide the ache.

This is how we begin to belong to ourselves—so we can also belong to each other.

I’d Love to Hear from You

What part of this blog post stirred something in you?
And if you’re walking through a season where loneliness feels loud—please know: you’re not broken. You’re at a threshold. And you’re not alone.

Navigating Grief and Growth

by Kristin | Grief and Loss, Healing, Identity

Reflections on a Challenging Year: Finding Meaning Beyond the Struggle

I scoffed at the student motivational speaker at my nephew’s graduation.

Her speech was uplifting—full of big dreams and bold declarations about how she and her classmates were going to change the world. Normally, speeches like this get me teary-eyed, filling me with HOPE that the next generation might actually save us.

But it was 2019—the year my partner’s brother was killed in a crabbing accident—and I was having none of it.

The weight of grief clouded any sense of hope, and I couldn’t see past the pain to recognize the potential for growth.

“Yeah right,” I muttered internally. “Just wait thirty years. Half of you will be in active addiction, and the other half will be sucked right into the greedy capitalist dream.”

Navigating grief is a challenging journey. In the midst of our loss, my partner and I struggled, neither of us able to face clients, let alone ‘market’ our businesses.

While healing from grief, I binge-watched Jessica Jones episodes and wanted to BE her!

These weren’t our best moments. Justin spent his days deep in online political debates, while I spent the first half of the year binge-watching Marvel shows. I wanted to BE Jessica Jones—her brand of sarcasm and self-deprecation hit me right in the feels.

The Turning Point

A few weeks later, still horrified at my jaded thoughts during that graduation, I decided my depression had gone on long enough. So I did what I always do when I feel stuck—I researched my way out.

I found an online course that promised inspiration, and one of the first activities was to reflect and harvest my year.

I rolled my eyes. “I don’t need to do this. I already know—my year SUCKED.”

Still, I answered the first question: “Did you have a vision for the year?”

YES! I had big plans to grow my business, but then Josh WAS KILLED IN A F-ING CRAB ACCIDENT WHILE HELPING SOME ARROGANT CAPTAIN WHO THOUGHT HE WAS BETTER THAN EVERYONE ELSE.

I moved to the next question: “What occurred, evolved, or happened since you set this intention? How would you describe your results?”

The anger bubbled up again. SAME ANSWER. “DITTO,” I scrawled, jabbing my pen hard enough to rip the page.

But then came another set of questions: “What were the highlights of your year? What are you most proud of? What had the most positive impact on you and/or others?”

At first, this stumped me. The bitterness and disappointment I’d been clinging to blocked access to any positive memories. But then I remembered something small yet meaningful—

In the spring, I got to drive my niece to her club volleyball practice two hours away every week. Since she’s a teen, those alone moments are rare. But every single time, she’d say, “This was fun, Auntie Kristin. We should hang out more often.”

That memory softened something inside me. I moved on to the rest of the questions, slowly re-evaluating my year—not through the capitalistic lens of productivity and success, but from a human perspective.

Redefining Growth & Success

Looking back, this shift—choosing to move through my jaded year and see what else was there—became a pivotal moment of growth for me.

One of the reasons I was so jaded was because I was filled with self-loathing. I couldn’t “fix” Josh’s wife’s grief, or Justin’s, or even my own. But leaning into my pain and feelings of failure ultimately made me a better practitioner.

It forced me to learn that it’s not my job to fix.

It’s my job to hold sacred space.

To BE there.

To allow what is.

“Some periods of our growth are so confusing that we don’t even recognize that growth is happening. We may feel hostile or angry or weepy and hysterical, or we may feel depressed. … However, we are, in fact, in the process of change…”
Alice Walker

Those long periods—when something inside us seems to be clawing its way out of our skin… when we’re frozen with uncertainty about our next step… when we feel completely untethered… when we’re angry at the world because deep down, we’re grieving something big—

Those times are HARD.

And you shouldn’t have to go through them alone.

(If you’re looking for deeper, personalized support, I’m here to help.)

A Different Way to Measure Your Year

Personal growth is challenging enough without the added weight of grief and loss. And when we measure success the way the world expects us to—by external achievements, productivity, and met goals—it can leave us feeling like we’ve failed.

Especially when navigating grief and transformation, we should admire the strength of climbing out of the pit of despair.

But what if there was another way?

I created a guide called Measure Your Year—a reflection tool designed to help you assess your growth through a lens of self-compassion and personal transformation, rather than capitalist productivity.

If you’re looking for a new way to measure your year—one that honors your inner journey as much as your external accomplishments—download Measure Your Year Guide + Bonus Meditation and start your reflection today.

Because even the hardest years have lessons worth harvesting. And you deserve to recognize just how far you’ve come.

Where Were You on September 11th, 2001?

by Kristin | Grief and Loss

Overcoming Grief and Finding Purpose: Turning Tragedy into Action

I bet we all remember where we were when the planes hit the Twin Towers. That moment when the world seemed to freeze. I also remember when the shooting at Columbine High School happened in 1999—a tragedy that shattered so many lives. But what about the others? The school shootings, the tragedies that have come after? Can you name them? Can you remember what you were doing when you first heard about them?

When the Sandy Hook shooting took place on December 14th, 2012, I was at the airport in Florida, about to fly back to Bolivia with my 12-year-old nephew and 9-year-old niece. They’d been visiting my family over Thanksgiving, and I was their “guardian” on the way home for Christmas. I watched the news at the airport, my stomach dropping as the horror of it all sunk in. My body froze—mouth open, throat tight, eyes welling up—but I quickly turned my attention to the kids, determined to protect them from the devastation unfolding on the screens around us.

It was all I could do in that moment—protect the children.

But since that day, there have been so many shootings at schools, malls, synagogues, churches, and beyond. Too many to count. Too many to remember what I was doing when I heard. Can you recall them? Is your memory as scattered as mine?

That’s a huge problem.

A Growing List of Losses

Here’s a List of JUST the Schools:

overcoming grief and finding purpose is hard, especially in the wake of all the school shootings — A list of school shootings

From Sandy Hook to the countless others, the list of school shootings alone is staggering. We should be outraged, right? But instead, many of us slip into hopelessness, and worse—apathy. It’s easy to feel like there’s nothing we can do, that the problem is too big.

But don’t let yourself stay stuck there.

Clarissa Pinkola Estés, in her profound wisdom, reminds us:

“In any dark time, there is a tendency to veer toward fainting over how much is wrong or unmended in the world. Do not focus on that. […] Ours is not the task of fixing the entire world all at once, but of stretching out to mend the part of the world that is within our reach.”

Overcoming grief and finding purpose isn’t about solving every problem in the world all at once. It’s about reaching for the part we can heal, the action we can take. And in the face of heartbreak and tragedy, action is what wakes us up.

What can you do?

Suggested Actions:

If you feel heartbroken, overwhelmed, or stuck in grief, remember that action is the antidote. Here are a few ways to start mending the world within your reach:

Call Your Representatives
Demand that they act on gun reform laws. It’s easy to feel helpless, but calling your local senators and representatives is a small yet powerful action. Here’s how you can contact them:
Support Organizations that Are Making a Difference
Glennon Doyle’s Together Rising is one of the many organizations that turn heartbreak into action. They are raising funds to provide immediate support for families and to push for long-term solutions. Check out what they’re doing and consider donating or getting involved.
Take Care of Yourself
In times of grief, we often forget the importance of self-care. Taking care of yourself is not selfish—it’s necessary. It’s how we stay grounded and able to act.

Healing Through Action

Feeling triggered or stuck? That’s normal. After trauma, many of us carry wounds that may not always be visible but are deeply felt. Did you know that 70% of the world’s population experiences psychological trauma at some point? And over 60% of adults in the U.S. have experienced an adverse childhood experience (ACE)? It’s no wonder that overcoming grief and finding purpose feels impossible at times.

But here’s the truth: you don’t have to navigate this alone.

It’s Time to Act

The key to overcoming grief and finding purpose is action. Even small steps make a difference, and the world needs your light. Don’t let the weight of despair freeze you.

Prayers for the Brokenhearted

And finally, if you are heart broken, here are two prayers from Mirabai Starr’s wonderful book of prayers: Mother of God Similar to Fire.

I find this prayer to be comforting: