Connecting the Dots - The Intersection of Anxiety, Connection, and Regulation

For years, I’ve worked with parents who ask why their children are so anxious, reactive, or dysregulated. I often reply, “Our villages are so small now.” Families are doing more with less. Less support. Less downtime. Less meaningful connection. But lately, I’ve been sitting with a deeper question:

Are we raising kids whose brains are stuck in survival mode?

We’re Wired for Connection

The human brain is a social organ. From the moment we’re born, we rely on the presence of others to regulate our emotions and feel safe in our bodies. This is not pop science. It is a biological reality.

The amygdala, our brain’s alarm system, is always scanning for signs of threat or safety. When a child feels emotionally supported and seen, the higher parts of the brain come online. This is where thinking, reflection, empathy, and emotional control happen.

But when a child feels alone or unseen, the amygdala stays active. Even when the child appears calm, their body may be holding tension. Over time, this can lead to chronic dysregulation, difficulty coping, and heightened anxiety.

The Hidden Strain of Independent Play

Parents often tell me their child is fine being alone because they spend long periods playing independently. This is especially true for neurodiverse children. Maybe they are building something, diving deep into a special interest, or reading a favorite story again and again.

It looks peaceful AND the child may truly be enjoying it.

But here’s the piece many parents miss: even when a child is happily absorbed, a part of their brain is still scanning for signs of safety. The brain wants to know that someone is attuned and available. That someone is checking in.

If a check-in never comes, or comes too late, the amygdala keeps track and might store the resulting anxiety as an attachment wound. A child won't say, "Hey, I felt lonely." Instead, they may have a meltdown later in the day. They may become oppositional, aggressive, or withdrawn. Parents often feel blindsided, but the behavior is not random. It is the brain’s delayed reaction to perceived isolation.

Enjoyment and isolation can happen at the same time. For many children, especially those who are neurodiverse, the nervous system needs regular moments of co-regulation even during play. Without this, the brain may remain in a subtle state of threat.

A Culture of Disconnection

Jonathan Haidt’s The Anxious Generation explores how stranger danger and technology have contributed to rising anxiety in children. He focuses on the loss of free play and the increase in screen use.

But I believe something even deeper is happening. We are living in a culture of disconnection. We are raising children without a village.

Children used to grow up surrounded by extended family and close-knit communities. Now, many spend their early years in overstimulating group settings with few meaningful interactions or at home with caregivers who are burned out or struggling with connection themselves. Families are more isolated. Parents are more distracted. Children are often emotionally alone even when physically surrounded by others.

This kind of isolation teaches the brain that the world is unsafe.

Connection is Regulation

If we want to reduce anxiety in children, we need to look beyond behavior. We need to ask, "What is this child's nervous system trying to tell us?"

The answer is almost always, "I need more connection."

This does not mean constant attention or helicopter parenting. It means small moments of genuine presence. A check-in. A glance. Sitting quietly beside them. Co-regulation is not complicated, but it is essential.

Delight in This

Our children don't need us to be perfect. They need us to be present.

This is not about turning back the clock to some mythical past where raising a child was easy. It's about rethinking your village and understanding that all brains thrive in relationship. When the nervous system feels safe, the amygdala can rest. Emotional regulation becomes possible. Curiosity returns. Real learning can happen.

We are not meant to do this alone. Not as children. Not as parents. Not as humans.