Designed to Heal

I’ve also started thinking of trauma in terms of connection. The theme of broken connection has come up in my work repeatedly over the years: broken connection to our body; broken connection to our sense of self; broken connection to others, especially those we love; broken connection to feeling centered or grounded on the planet; broken connection to God, Source, Life Force, well-being, or however we might describe or relate to our inherent sense of spirituality, openhearted awareness, and beingness.
— Diane Poole Heller, The Power of Attachment (2019)

Diane Poole Heller is a trauma therapist who bridges attachment theory with somatic healing. Her work recognises that trauma and attachment wounds are inseparable—our earliest patterns shape how we navigate safety, intimacy, and trust. For those in recovery, understanding these patterns isn’t about blame. It’s about recognising how we learned to survive disconnection and discovering that reconnection is possible.

There are four primary attachment styles, each a survival strategy for managing relationships when safety felt uncertain.

Secure Attachment is our birthright—the capacity to trust, ask for help, and feel safe in connection and solitude. People with secure attachment navigate conflict without catastrophizing and offer support without losing themselves. Trauma can disrupt this, but secure attachment can be earned in adulthood through consistent relationships. In recovery, sponsors, home groups, and reliable communities teach us what secure connection feels like. The work is noticing it and staying present, even when old patterns tempt us to pull away.

Anxious Attachment develops when connection felt unpredictable. Caregivers were loving one moment, absent the next, so hypervigilance became survival. In adulthood, this manifests as fear of rejection, constant reassurance-seeking, and difficulty trusting others will stay. In recovery, this can drive over-involvement in service or interpreting distance as rejection. Healing involves self-soothing, developing internal reassurance, and trusting people can care for us when not immediately available. Regular grounding exercises, check-ins with safe people, and tolerating brief separations build security from within.

Avoidant Attachment forms when closeness felt unsafe. Caregivers were intrusive, dismissive, or emotionally distant, making independence the safer choice. In adulthood, this appears as discomfort with intimacy and withdrawal when things get close. In recovery, this looks like reluctance to share deeply or keeping sponsors distant. Healing involves building tolerance for vulnerability, recognising that interdependence isn’t dependence, and learning that strength includes receiving support. Small steps—sharing honestly, reaching out before crisis, sitting with discomfort—expand capacity for connection.

Disorganized Attachment emerges when the source of safety is also the source of fear—caregivers who were frightening, abusive, or deeply unpredictable. The child wants closeness but associates it with danger. In adulthood, this manifests as chaotic relationships and emotional dysregulation. Common in those with addiction histories, we crave and fear connection equally. Healing is complex, often requiring professional support alongside recovery. It involves building body-based safety, learning to tolerate intense emotions without reacting, and practising small moments of trust.

Recovery itself is reconnection. Every meeting, every honest share, every moment of reaching out instead of isolating builds new pathways toward secure attachment. We reconnect to our bodies by focusing on our well-being, to ourselves through inventory, to others through fellowship, and to something greater through spiritual engagement. Connection is possible. Safety can be practised. As Heller would remind us, “We are fundamentally designed to heal.”