The Many Ways We Connect
As humans, we are wired for connection. In the past, our survival depended on it—humankind quickly learned that we were stronger and safer together. While we no longer face threats like sabre-toothed cats (thankfully), the need for connection remains just as vital to our well-being.
Historically, society emphasised a ‘right’ amount and way to connect with others—such as making direct eye contact. As a result, those of us who sought connection differently were expected to conform or were isolated because of our differences. Over time, the voices of those who did not fit the mould challenged this perspective, advocating instead that connection-based differences are simply that—a difference, nothing more and nothing less. As this idea spread, research increasingly supported it, with some studies highlighting the effectiveness of different communication styles and others reinforcing the importance of connection while examining the impact of assimilation and marginalisation on well-being (read our blog post on the Double Empathy Problem). Interestingly, even when we acknowledge connection as essential, we rarely take the time to truly understand our own relationship-based needs, how we express love, or how we feel loved.
So, if connection is so important to our wellbeing, how do we meet both our own and our loved ones’ needs? The seemingly simple in theory, but complex in practice answer, is reflection.
It is difficult to know how to meet them, if we do not first understand what our needs are. Through reflection, we create space for a curious and compassionate exploration of our identities. We might ask ourselves questions such as:
When have I felt energised after connecting with someone?
Who do I go to when I need help?
Who can I be myself (or unmask) around?
How do I know that someone cares for me?
What do people do that makes me feel safe?
For those who find it easier to identify situations where you have felt disconnected, instead exploration can focus on:
When have I felt exhausted after a social interaction?
Who do I try to avoid engaging with?
What makes me feel disconnected from others?
Do I ever have strong emotional responses after interacting with others? (read our Rejection Sensitivity Dysphoria blog post)
What would help make these interactions a more positive experience?
It is common to observe patterns of small, subtle moments of connection that, when combined, can transform a stranger into what some might call a “strawberry person”. Whether it is someone saving us a seat at an event, sending a meme, or being there during tough times, each act signals that person’s desire to build a connection with us. John Gottman referred to these moments as “emotional bids”—actions that demonstrate care towards others. When these bids are recognised and appropriately responded to, they can enhance relationship satisfaction; conversely, when they are overlooked or misinterpreted, frustration, resentment, or disconnection may follow.
Recognising and responding to emotional bids can be challenging because they are intended to be subtle. While an overt declaration is easier to recognise, it is also far more likely to provoke anxiety and be seen as a threat to our nervous systems. Nonetheless, shortcuts exist. Patterns of connection attempts have led to the categorisation of the ways we seek and offer connection. These are often referred to as ‘Love Languages’ and were first coined in the 1990s by Gary Chapman, a Southern Baptist pastor, after he noticed recurring themes of unmet needs among the couples he supported as a marriage counsellor.
The five neurodivergent love languages: infodumping, parallel play, support swapping, Please Crush My Soul Back Into My Body, and "I found this cool rock/button/leaf/etc and thought you would like it"
— Myth (@neurowonderful) May 27, 2021
Over time, it became apparent that the context in which the love languages were originally developed did not account for the nuances of those outside that setting, for example, people from diverse cultural backgrounds. As the love languages grew in popularity, both the breadth of the categories and societal expectations for us to “fit” a mould expanded. The neurodivergent community recognised that the traditional love languages did not reflect their shared experiences and, as a result, collaboratively explored the Neurodivergent Love Languages.
These frameworks are merely one example to support our exploration of connection. They provide an opportunity for open discussion, reflection, and affirmation of our connection‐based needs and styles. When we feel that we do not “fit” any of these categories, or that we are “failing” to align exactly with the ones that we resonate with, it may be time to discard these labels.
While adaptations acknowledge and affirm the experiences of many, some of us may feel they still “miss the mark” for our own circumstances. Similar to memes that highlight shared characteristics within star signs, careers, or neurotypes, these categories of how to feel love do not always consider our personal contexts. In fact, that is the beauty of it: while we can relate to and affirm each other, we all have unique and individual profiles that thrive when understood and accepted.
Our connection profiles are context‐specific and dynamic. What satisfies our needs on any given day can be influenced by factors such as our role, comfort, and capacity. For example:
Our role – You may value Quality Time in romantic relationships but prefer Words of Affirmation with friends.
Our comfort - Comfort levels may mean you connect through deep conversation with one friend but prefer shared activities with another.
Our capacity – While you may be a highly social person, when burnout or overstimulated you might prefer parallel play.
Further reflection can help us identify the dynamic nature of our connection style and needs. When we feel “off” or uncertain in a relationship, instead of berating ourselves “what’s wrong with me?!”, we may compassionately explore:
What kind of connection feels best for me right now?
How am I making bids for connection?
Am I missing or misinterpreting any bids from others?
Is anything impacting my needs or capacity for connection?
Recognising changes across different contexts can be transformative in our relationships. As per Dr Kidd’s reflections regarding neurodivergent couples (read it here), the greater the understanding within a relationship, the more sustainable and fulfilling it becomes. A curious and compassionate exploration not only fosters a better understanding of our own needs but also helps us appreciate the ways in which others may express love, care, and a desire to connect.
In summary, there is no single way to love or be loved. Whether through traditional love languages, neurodivergent expressions, or evolving connection styles, recognising emotional bids can strengthen our relationships. The better we understand others, the easier it becomes to acknowledge and honour their bids for connection—affirming our loved one’s identity and building their confidence for future opportunities and self-advocacy. As this is a reciprocal process, the more others accept our bids for connection, the more we come to understand and accept our own needs. In learning to recognise and respond to these bids, regardless of how they manifest, we create deeper, more meaningful bonds.
A final note from me:
Your way of exploring connection is uniquely yours. I just hope that as you do, you embrace it with the same compassion, curiosity, and love that you so freely give to those around you.
This blog post was inspired by personal and professional experiences of connection differences as well as the work of Stimpunks, who beautifully summarises emotional bids and provides a thorough overview of the Neurodivergent Love Language in their article titled “The Five Neurodivergent Love Locutions”.
