You don’t need a crowd.
You don’t even need a village.
But you do need your people.

I know, I know - here it comes again you say. My community soapbox.

But please bear with me - I write about it because this part of life really matters.

It's not just about the big life events - weddings, birthdays, or heartbreaks - life is about the quiet, invisible architecture of everyday. 

The cup of tea someone makes while you're crying in the other room.

The person who looks up and says, "You okay?" before you even realise you're not.

The Tuesdays that feel like nothing - but somehow fix everything.

I‘m not just being poetic here.

It's biological.

So let's talk about it.

Loneliness Is a Health Risk - Connection Can be a Cure 

We talk about loneliness like it’s only a feeling. 

But it's also a state - a chronic, physiological state that directly affects our health.

When we feel isolated, our bodies react as if we're in danger.

Cortisol rises.

Inflammation kicks in.

Our nervous system goes on high alert.

Prolonged loneliness has been shown to increase the risk of depression, anxiety, heart disease, cognitive decline - and even early death.

And no, a screen full of faces on Zoom doesn't solve it.

What we need is presence.

Real, physical, breathable presence.

We're Wired for Proximity

We are not designed to process life alone.

From a neurobiological standpoint, co-regulation - our ability to calm and steady ourselves - is not a solo sport.

The sound of someone else chopping vegetables in the kitchen.

A voice in the hallway saying, "Want some tea?"

A shared sigh when bedtime routines go sideways.

These aren't just nice-to-haves. They're nervous system gold.

Our brains rely on subtle cues from others to feel safe - facial expressions, tone of voice, and the rhythm of footsteps in the same room.

When we're near others, that we trust, our parasympathetic nervous system - the one responsible for rest and repair - finally exhales.

The Power of Micro-Communities

You don't need to live in a commune or have a dozen roommates to experience this.

 Micro-communities can be as simple as:

- A neighbour you chat with while your kids play outside.

- A weekly shared meal with two other families.

- A co-living setup where you each retreat to your own space, but gather for the small stuff: laundry day, late-night chats, the occasional group cry over IKEA furniture.

These micro-networks offer something our bodies are silently craving: consistent, low-effort, low-stakes connection.

It's not the intensity of support that matters most.

It's the regularity.

This Isn't About Being Social - It's About Being Regulated 

We've confused socialising with connection.

One can happen at a party.

The other happens when you're half-asleep on the sofa next to someone folding socks. This is the true beauty of shared living - not just in a structural sense, but in a relational one. It's about creating space for others in our everyday rhythm. Not just for conversation but for co-existence.

For being seen in your mess.

Held in your silence.

And reminded - by someone's presence - that you're not carrying life alone.

Let's Wrap This Up

Mental health isn't just about what's going on in your mind.

It's about the conditions your nervous system lives in. 

And one of the most healing conditions we can create for ourselves is togetherness.

Not forced, not performative.

But honest, integrated, imperfect community.

Small. Real. Human.

You don't need a huge network.

Just a few people who are near enough to notice when you're not okay - and kind enough to care.

Lots of love,

Stina

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