I’m taking a quick break from the Gender Bias series to talk about something that’s near and dear to me: human connection. One of the hardest challenges after my career transition—aside from navigating a new routine—has been the loss of traditional office connections. I no longer have the simple pleasure of walking over to a coworker’s desk to debrief, download, and connect. This lack of daily interaction can be emotionally taxing and may lead to intrusive thoughts like, “Am I good enough?” or “Was I ever good enough?” Loneliness becomes a kryptonite to our growth, both physically and mentally. It can disrupt sleep and leave us feeling isolated, even when we try our best to maintain healthy habits.
My former company had, and still has, an incredible mental health support network for its employees. But what happens when you’re outside that structure? Some companies continue to support their alumni, but even with this, the experience can feel incredibly isolating. We tend to reach out to former colleagues for comfort—a kind of “warm sweater” feel that we’ve relied on for years. While this can provide short-term relief, is it really the best path forward? This week, I want to explore how we grow during times of uncertainty and shifts.
Many of you know my story: I worked for the same company for 26 years, and that relationship ended in March of 2023. I suspect it might seem like I belabor this point, but I believe I’m not alone on this journey and our collective stories can be used to lift each other. That’s why I share my experiences—so you can learn from my journey as you navigate your own. And, of course, writing helps me heal.
When I first started working with my coach, one of the most important exercises we did was identifying my core values. Most of us have done something similar through our professional or personal leadership journeys. Alongside family, community, nature, and movement, human connection came out as a top driver of my emotional well-being. For as long as I can remember, what I’ve valued most is genuine, human-to-human connection. This isn’t about daily coffee outings or weekend dinner parties. To me, true human connection means an authentic meeting of the heart and mind. I value authenticity (note the authentically NOT professional photos above) and integrity above almost everything else, and what fills my cup are those who meet me where I am, and I meet them where they are. These are the people who nurture me and lift me up, who raise my energy rather than deplete it.
At the risk of offending all of my musicians surrounding me, this is where my “Taylor Swift Theory” on connection comes in. Fan or not, one thing is clear: through her music, Taylor Swift has the unique ability to bring thousands and thousands of people together, elevating the positive energy within and around her stage. It is almost palpable as you see her fans singing and rejoicing before, during, and after her performances. We also know and feel the evidence of music alone, of any kind, has been proven to benefit mental health. According to the National Center for Complementary and Integrative Health, “music causes the release of brain chemicals (neurotransmitters and hormones) that can evoke emotional reactions, memories, and feelings, and promote social bonds. Attending a concert or even listening to music at home can change how our brains function. When you’re part of a crowd of 90,000 people, all singing and dancing, it can result in the neural release of dopamine, making us feel good, and the singing can release oxytocin, increasing satisfaction. In its simplest terms, this is the essence of human connection."
Don’t fret if you aren’t a Swiftie, similar experiences can be found on the opposite end of the musical spectrum, like at Grateful Dead shows, which are famously beloved by their devoted followers. Jacob L. Freedman, MD, a board-certified psychiatrist, describes this legendary band’s concerts as an “experience of wellness—the inner peace, the positive sense-of-self, and the ability to shrug off stress—lasts in a person’s body even after the show is over. Perhaps this is what makes Grateful Dead shows a form of medicine.”
Whether you’re attuned to the pop power of Taylor Swift or vibing with the Grateful Dead, the common thread is the intense and energetic human connection. Both examples demonstrate the power of music and how it can connect us, potentially improving our mental health. Both provide a container to elevate the energy that runs through all of us.
These large-scale examples show how our energy can impact one another, but they aren’t always feasible for everyone. Financial limitations, family obligations, or geographic distance from our favorite artists can make these experiences inaccessible. So what happens when we’re left to face isolation, especially after a major life change? I could have turned to Netflix binging or solitary trail running, but I made a conscious choice to seek out connection opportunities. Yoga classes became, as they always had been, a place to share collective energy through movement. Coffee shops provided warmth through the simple presence of others. Concerts with my partner Kevin and his other worldly talented daughter Annie (mark my words, one day we’ll all be singing and dancing along to her on the world stage) became regular highlights. Community events, though sometimes tricky to fit into a busy schedule, became welcome additions my week.
One event, in particular, sparked the idea for this blog. Kevin and I split our time between the beautiful Mad River Valley and equally spectacular Stowe-adjacent Morristown in Vermont. My aunt and uncle have owned property in East Warren since the late ’60s, so it holds a special place in this eighth-generation Vermonter’s heart as I recall visiting their little cabin when it lacked running water, a modern toilet, and they had a brood of dogs. Each year, the town holds a party at the East Warren Market to celebrate the market’s birthday and as serendipity often delivers, just 2 days ago I revisited this place where my heart is. home. I’ve only been twice to this gathering since returning to Vermont, but each time, I check off all the boxes on my connection and community bingo card. It feels like I’m in a nurturing bubble of love. Conversations with 80-year-old carpenters who invite you to their wood shop just to talk and tell stories, neighbors offering to care for your cherished cactus, and others giving free hugs—because hugs are free. And the music! By now, we can all agree that music is a healer of all wounds, young and old. On this particular Fall Equinox night as the night cooled and the dance floor heated up, the local artists shared the stage with each other, no egos, no limelight, just a small town coming together to boogie down in freshly donned wool sweaters, boots, and beers in hand.
That’s the kind of human connection that will forever nurture my soul. We can and will heal each other through music and community.
What are some ways you connect with others beyond your professional life?
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