“I just don’t know if I will ever ‘get’ this thing about love.
I even googled to see if there was a ‘Love for Dummies’ edition.
I really need help with this …”
my client said in a tone practically begging for help.
Love.
What a “hot” topic.
We talk about it more than any other human experience.
But sadly, very few of us were ever taught how to love
in a way that feels…
safe,
nourishing,
and/or real to someone.
All of us desire love.
The truth is that it’s more than a desire.
It’s a NEED!
Our longing for connection is woven into our biology.
Sad to say, for many of us,
trauma has rewired our nervous system
to associate any kind of closeness (and certainly love) with danger.
The result?
Even if love is right in front of us,
close enough for the “love bug” to bite us,
we may not be able to let it in.
Perhaps you notice that you pull away when someone gets too close.
Or find yourself wondering why you keep choosing partners…
who end up being unavailable.
Let me assure you of this one thing … you’re not broken.
You’re running an outdated (maybe even ancient)
survival strategy that once kept you safe.
Life is a struggle for one thing.
A healthy sense of intimacy.
The giving … the taking.
The saying … the doing.
IN-TO-ME -SEE (intimacy)… is what we all learn to give and protect.
Most of us, have a flawed sense of how to give and receive intimacy.
Which is why boundaries are hard to scale and set.
If that’s you … you’re far from being alone in that struggle.
No matter how you look at it …
trauma skews our experience with love.
Giving it.
Receiving it.
The numbers reveal just how widespread this challenge is.
· The National Council for Mental Wellbeing (2023) revealed an estimated 70% of adults in the United States — more than 223 million people — have experienced at least one traumatic event in their lives.
· Other research says it’s about 90% of us.
· Globally, the World Health Organization (WHO) estimates that roughly 60% of men and 50% of women will endure a traumatic experience at some point.
· Data about children and adolescents experiencing trauma are equally sobering. The landmark Adverse Childhood Experiences (ACE) Study by the U.S. Centers for Disease Control and Prevention found that two-thirds of adults report at least one category of early trauma (such as abuse, neglect, or household dysfunction).
· The same organization reported that one in every five (children and adolescents) report three or more.
· Adults with four or more ACEs are nearly twice as likely to experience depression
· They are 3.5 times more likely to struggle with relationship instability.
Why does this matter when we talk about love?
Because every early experience where we feel a lack of safety,
feel unprotected or feel in danger,
becomes a blueprint (etched in neuro-stone)
for all future connection (or lack thereof).
When love and safety are experienced together in childhood,
our nervous system learns that intimacy is safe and secure.
But when love is paired with…
fear,
inconsistency,
betrayal,
our brains and bodies learn that closeness equals:
risk,
danger,
and sometimes … severe damage.
A 2021 study published in the Journal of Traumatic Stress found
that 90% of people with complex PTSD report difficulties with intimacy.
They also struggle with …
closeness,
fear of rejection,
or emotional numbing.
(Avoiding anything that resonates with closeness like a plague!)
Another 2020 meta-analysis in Frontiers in Psychology
showed that unresolved trauma significantly predicts …
avoidant,
anxious,
and disorganized attachment styles.
This doesn’t mean those
who’ve experienced trauma can’t love.
But it certainly means that at the very least,
they’re programmed only to love defensively.
Their connections are filtered through a nervous system
still scanning for danger.
Leaving them protected but lonely.
And leaving their partners feeling very alone.
Let’s change that!
(From my AA friend. “I say this for myself. ‘I’m not alcoholic because I drink. I’m alcoholic because of the way I think.’ All of us in the program have walls we put up. The reason we drank is because we had no idea how to take them down, to be able to connect with anyone without needing them.”).
1. We ALL have a need to be loved.
“All You Need is Love!”
The Beatles
Love is not optional.
It’s an essential human nutrient.
Equally as vital as food or oxygen.
In the 1940s, psychologist René Spitz
studied infants in orphanages…
who were well-fed and physically cared for
but deprived of affectionate touch.
Nearly one-third of those infants died
before age two — a phenomenon
later called failure to thrive.
Harry Harlow’s famous experiments with rhesus monkeys in the 1950s echoed another stark truth …
When given a choice between a wire “mother”
that provided food
and a soft cloth “mother”
that provided warmth,
the infant monkeys consistently clung to the cloth mother —
proving that comfort and connection far
outweigh even hunger in the hierarchy of survival needs.
Take those things in.
Truly, we ALL NEED LOVE!
Modern neuroscience has deepened
our understanding of all of this…we can see our thoughts now with functional imaging.
Physical affection and emotional safety
stimulate the release of oxytocin,
the “bonding hormone.”
(It’s not just for the Bachelor or the Bachelorette).
It not only bonds us with others, builds trust, and feels good …
but it also …
lowers cortisol levels,
boosts our immune function,
improves our cardiovascular health.
Chronic deprivation of love and nurturing connection can lead to …
attachment disruptions,
hyperarousal of the stress system,
and long-term emotional dysregulation.
(Schore, 2019; Porges, 2011)
Dr. Louis Cozolino, author of The Neuroscience of Human Relationships, summarizes it perfectly:
“We are not the survival of the fittest —
we are the survival of the nurtured.”
From infancy to adulthood,
our brains literally wire themselves around love —
or the absence of it.
When we experience safe attachment,
we develop emotional flexibility and trust.
Unreliable, unpredictable, or unsafe attachment
builds hyper-vigilance and guardedness.
Along with withholding of love.
And pushing away the love others try to give us
like it’s some kind of loaded gun.
That clearly explains why people who grew up in chaotic or unloving environments often feel desperate for love – yet terrified of it … all at the same time.
Their brains and their bodies learned early in life
that love comes with conditions …
pain,
shame,
and/or danger.
In relationships, here’s what they often experience:
· Falling for intensity instead of stability.
· Confusing chaos with chemistry.
· Feeling like they are “too much” when expressing needs.
· Going numb when someone offers connection or closeness.
We mistake things that we learned to survive – for love.
“I know that’s exactly what I did!” my client admitted.
“I’m still appalled that stuff from decades ago is affecting me, my wife, and my family. That’s just unbelievable! But I’m starting to see it now.”
I assured him, “This is a great opportunity to do it differently, and to give and receive the love you both desire and deserve!”
The same is true for you, my friend!
(From my AA friend. “There’s simply NO WAY to see what I need, till I stop what I don’t need.)
2. Let’s look at how trauma shows up in the way we love.
Unhealed trauma doesn’t just live in the mind —
it shapes how we interpret every moment …
every day,
every social cue.
Neurobiologically, trauma dysregulates the …
Amygdala (our threat alarm).
Hippocampus (our album of memories).
Prefrontal cortex (the regulator of our emotions).
That trio of dysregulation keeps us on hyperalert, in overwhelm, and living life expecting the worst, and preparing for awful outcomes.
Together, these changes in our brains
and their programming
make it difficult to relax,
to trust, or to accurately gauge safety in relationships.
In more human terms:
Even when we consciously know someone loves us,
our body spends all its energy and bandwidth
preparing for impact, expecting to be hurt.
“I believe you, but I still don’t see it. I mean I think I’m just living my life the best I can, and I never wanted to hurt my wife or kids,” my client said with some confusion, and lots of regret.
“Most of us don’t!” I validated.
Let me describe some of the common symptoms
and see how many you can relate to (and see in yourself):
Here are common signs that trauma has impacted the way you give and receive love:
· Fear of Intimacy: Closeness feels suffocating or risky. You crave connection but retreat when it arrives. When someone gets close you make jokes or act like an adolescent. Or sometimes find yourself annoyed (about almost nothing)!
· Emotional Numbing: Love feels abstract, like watching life through a glass. You know you should “feel” something. But you just don’t. You might even find connection “yucky” or “annoying.”
· Hyper‑Independence: “I don’t need anyone.” A defense developed when needing others meant disappointment or danger. So, if anyone tries to do anything for you … you take over. (Like if they’re fixing you a drink, you take it out of their hands to complete the preparation).
· Attachment Avoidance or Anxiety: You withdraw or distance with agitation to minimize any closeness. Or pursue and become clingy when you fear abandonment or rejection.
· Reenactment: You attract partners who replicate earlier emotional wounds. And swear you didn’t see it in them. (And often make them sound like crazy when talking about them to others.)
· Sabotaging Good Relationships: Pushing away safe partners, because connection and safety feel unfamiliar — and therefore, suspicious. (Leaving partners feeling like the lyrics: “You push my love away like it’s some kind of loaded gun!”)
“If you asked my wife, she’d say you’d been watching us on a nanny cam and nailed me completely!” my client commented.
I leaned in and gently asked: “More importantly, how many of them do you see in yourself?”
The reddening of his eyes and his quievering chin answered before he almost whispered: “Honestly, all of them …”
“It’s okay … with that kind of honesty and humility, there’s no doubt we can fix this!” I assured him.
You may wonder how many marriages are affected?
I can assure you that if you see yourself in any of this, you’re not alone!
Emotional disconnection is a silent epidemic in marriages.
According to The Gottman Institute (2022),
58% of divorced couples cite “emotional distance or lack of intimacy”
as a key factor.
A 2021 survey by the American Association for Marriage and Family Therapy found that 72% of couples in therapy identify unresolved trauma (from childhood or past relationships) as a root issue in their communication breakdowns.
I would say that it is 90%+ in the thousands of couples
I’ve worked with through the years
in my inpatient and outpatient treatment centers,
in workshops I’ve conducted around the globe,
and in my private practice.
It goes far beyond marriage.
Trauma is strongly correlated with relationship dissatisfaction.
A Journal of Social and Personal Relationships study (2020)
found that individuals with high trauma exposure
were 3.2 times more likely to experience
chronic relationship instability or cycling
between breakup and reconciliation.
Why? Because trauma not only trains us,
but forces us, to survive alone.
It brands in our brain’s programming:
Don’t trust.
Don’t need.
Don’t depend.
But love requires the opposite:
· To trust our partner
· To need our partner
· To depend on our partner.
The exact adaptations that we wisely developed for survival,
now prevent us from thriving with love and connection.
When we bond, our nervous system synchronizes with the other person’s — a process called coregulation.
What is that process?
A system where our heart rates,
breathing rhythms,
and emotional states subtly
mirror one another.
But a traumatized brain often can’t fully relax into this dance.
Its “social engagement system” (as defined by Dr. Stephen Porges’ Polyvagal Theory) is often still locked in defense mode.
In safe relationships, the vagus nerve (the body’s soothing pathway)
stays activated, allowing for openness and trust.
In people who’ve experienced trauma, that system is “jacked up.”
It often oscillates between hyperarousal (fight/flight)
and hypo arousal (freeze/shutdown).
Then any connection or love becomes
a source of dysregulation … rather than calm.
As psychiatrist Dr. Bessel van der Kolk writes in The Body Keeps the Score:
“Trauma is not the story of something that happened back then. It’s the current imprint of that pain on body, mind, and soul.”
Healing, then, isn’t just about thinking differently. That would be much simpler. Instead, healing is about helping the brain and body feel like love is safe again. (And many can’t even remember a time when that was true for them).
One sure way to keep wounding ourselves,
is to relive what we can never change … the past!
“I count not myself to have apprehended: but this one thing I do, forgetting those things which are behind, and reaching forth unto those things which are before.”
Paul an Apostle
3. Let’s do some healing —
remembering or relearning
that love can be safe.
Cognitive insight alone rarely heals trauma’s grip on love
because insight happens in the thinking brain,
while trauma lives in the feelings
and in the survival part of our brain.
Healing requires experiences that reach the body and nervous system, which cannot occur with just understanding.
Below is a guided, experiential practice —
not journaling or symbolic hand‑holding,
but a somatic exercise designed
to rebuild the sense of safety that love depends on.
Once again, I brought my client’s wife in for this healing exercise.
I will walk you through the steps and share their experience.
In this exercise I use …
visualization,
touch,
mindful awareness,
to re‑educate the body that closeness can exist without threat.
I call it the “Safe Cocoon Exercise.”
Prepare the Environment
Find a place where you can be
physically comfortable and undisturbed
for 10–15 minutes.
Silence your phone.
I played some soft, soothing music.
I had them both get comfy with their chairs side by side.
I asked them to breath in through their noses to the count of 5,
hold it to the count of 10, exhale through their mouths to the count of 15.
Then breathe normally while thinking of something
they could be grateful for – 1 minute.
Then we repeated the 5/10/20 breathing
with gratitude reflection 3 times.
Anchor Through Touch
I had them each place their right hand
around their left wrist to feel their own heartbeat.
Then I asked them to place one hand on their chest lightly,
and the other hand on the chest of the other.
Then with no words spoken, to breathe together.
This makes us aware of our own bodies,
and the breathing of the other.
This is a key step because trauma often disconnects us
from our own bodies and
makes us very unaware of our partner.
Acknowledge the Protector Inside You
Say out loud to yourself:
“I honor the part of me that learned to protect against love.”
Let that part of you know that you understand why it had to exist.
I had them both say this aloud to themselves.
Then quietly validate that it was a wise thing to do at one time.
Then I had them say it aloud again to the other:
“I honor the part of you that learned to protect against love.”
Then with no words (eyes still closed)
I asked them to take the hand of the other
and assure (without words or eye contact
… just through the hands touching)
that they cared that the other hand to protect against love.
Create the Container
Now, imagine a soft boundary surrounding your body —
a bubble,
light,
or gentle cocoon.
This is your container of safety.
It keeps harmful energy out but allows warmth, light, and kindness in at a tolerable pace.
Notice how it feels to have a boundary that’s chosen, not imposed.
I asked them both to do this.
Invite Connection
I asked them to imagine the other standing just outside their container. (You may need to imagine someone you would trust to be there with you).
You do not need to let them in your cocoon.
Simply feel their stable presence near you.
Let yourself sense what happens in your body
as you imagine this closeness:
heart rate,
breath,
warmth,
tension.
There’s no right or wrong answer — only curiosity.
Listen to Your Body
If your body wants to relax, let it.
If it resists (thank it) for keeping you safe.
The goal isn’t to force comfort.
It’s to teach the body that proximity
doesn’t always equal pain.
This recalibration, repeated over time,
is what slowly rebuilds trust in relational safety.
I then asked them to join hands again (eyes still closed)
and notice changes in their body when they touched the others hand.
Nothing right or wrong!
Just curiosity.
Integration
When you finish, open your eyes gently.
Look around the room.
Remind yourself: I’m here, safe, and in control.
I had my couple open their eyes and look at each other.
And to say those words out loud to one another:
“I’m here. I’m safe. I’m in control.”
Then I had them look into the other’s eyes
silently while thinking of things
they were grateful to the other for … 3 minutes.
It’s that simple.
And that complex.
But it works.
You may wonder why or how it works:
This exercise combines trauma‑informed elements from somatic experiencing (Peter Levine), internal family systems (Richard Schwartz), and polyvagal‑based therapies.
It works by:
· Activating our interoceptive awareness (feeling our body sensations).
· Differentiating past danger from present safety.
· Allowing mild exposure to relational “nearness” without overwhelming the system.
Over time, practices like this rewire the nervous system for connection.
It only takes about 10 – 15 minutes.
Doing it around 7 – 10 times usually creates some new awarenesses:
For example, you may begin to feel warmth or safety in interactions that once triggered anxiety or shutdown.
You may feel more relaxed around the ones you love.
I asked my couple how they felt after the first exercise in my office.
The wife said that for the first time in a long time,
she felt compassion for him.
He said that he felt so much warmth looking in her eyes
and was a little surprised how much gratitude he felt toward her.
In the next visit, they had repeated the exercise 5 times.
They both admitted to feeling much more connected and
even talked about watching a moving holding each other on the couch … something they hadn’t done in years.
The more your body learns that love can coexist with safety,
the more your relationships begin to heal from the inside out.
*****
In addition to repeating the exercise,
I asked my couple to begin giving small acts of kindness
or love and to limit all intensity.
That kind of consistency with small things, while limiting intensity heals attachment wounds more than anything.
They did a wonderful job, and the evidence was in him saying,
“I realize what this stuff has done to me that kept me from just enjoying life!”
When trauma shapes our understanding of love,
healing feels like learning a new language —
slow, awkward, and sometimes filled with doubt.
(Like asking yourself: “Will this work for me?”
… a common question from someone with unresolved trauma).
But you can learn.
A new language.
Or to give love.
To receive love.
Each time you focus on feeling safe in someone’s presence
and allowing yourself to stay present (instead of retreating) …
you’re teaching your nervous system
that love no longer equals danger or injury.
As Dr. Gabor Maté writes:
“Trauma is not what happens to you …
it’s what happens inside you as a result of
what happens to you.
And it can be healed.”
Love heals, but only when it feels safe.
Your task is not to become better at loving,
but safer at receiving it.
And that begins not with another person …
but with you. You giving love to yourself and receiving it.
Then pour it out on your partner!
And receive theirs when they pour it out on you.
(I promise it’s not a loaded gun!)
Only surrender guarantees that love will find us.
“Finally, whatsoever things are true, whatsoever things are honest, whatsoever things are just, whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are of good report; if there be any virtue, and if there be any praise, think on these things.”
Paul an Apostle