5 Ways a Lack of Attunement Keeps You From Connecting

So many people feel stuck when it comes to forming real connections, and if you find yourself repeatedly trying without anything deep developing — or if friends seem distant or to be drifting away — the problem may lie in your Attunement: your capacity to sense another person’s openness and “read the room.” When rapport isn’t happening, instead of assuming everyone else is closed off, you can make inner shifts that help you tune in better so others feel seen, heard, and genuinely accompanied. Attunement is an immensely attractive quality in almost any setting; people gravitate toward someone who is attuned. You don’t have to be born with it. Trauma in childhood can blunt Attunement, at least to some degree, and there are common signs and behaviors that reveal it — I’ll outline many of them here. First, giving unsolicited advice is a big red flag. That’s when you tell someone what to do when they didn’t ask for guidance. It happens constantly: tell someone you were hospitalized, and the immediate responses from badly attuned people are “You need to take this vitamin,” “You should see this doctor,” “Change your diet,” and so on. Unsolicited advice shows up around weight loss, careers, feelings — everywhere. Among women especially, conversations often start with “How are you?” and when someone shares a struggle, a good friend listens without rushing in with solutions or projecting their story. Assuming that someone who’s struggling must be clueless about solutions is a failure of Attunement. I remember long hospital stays after a surgery went wrong; I had 14 operations and a brutal recovery. When I shared that, people would prescribe diets or supplements that had nothing to do with the injury. What actually helped me was shutting out the noise, tuning into my own sensations, and discovering how traumatized I’d become — constantly on edge from a cascade of life stresses: divorce, single parenting, losing my job, a partner who died. Being quiet in the hospital allowed me to reconnect with myself and return to my daily practice techniques (I teach these often on this channel and put them in the description as a free course). Unsolicited advice jams up someone’s own radar and intuition; it projects the advisor onto the other person and often lands as criticism, self-centeredness, or simply not listening. A kinder alternative is to offer your experience lightly: “I had something similar — if you want to hear what I tried, I can tell you,” or better yet, simply be present, say “I hear you, I’m with you,” and resist the impulse to fix. Presence creates closeness, and people who feel understood may later ask for your opinion. The second sign of poor Attunement is a lack of curiosity: when your opinions are fixed and you’re quick to label or explain everything instead of asking questions. Rather than correcting or arguing, try genuine curiosity: “That’s interesting — how did you arrive at that?” and then actually listen. You can still disagree afterward, but you’ll likely be closer to the person. If you haven’t learned to sit calmly with people who hold different views (I’m not talking about tolerating bullies), cultivating that capacity is crucial. Right now, there are forces encouraging us to rage at each other and to believe there is only one “correct” opinion; that polarizing mindset damages relationships. Healthy social life requires tolerance for differing perspectives, and remembering that people’s views often spring from their life experience, not from malice or stupidity. Curiosity is an easy bridge: ask about vacations, ask what someone loved most about a trip, whether the food in France really is as good as people say — small questions invite conversation. Try noticing the world together too: pointing out a beautiful sunset and wondering aloud about the clouds can pull someone into a shared moment. My husband responds more to my question about “why” things happen than to just “look at this,” so I’ve learned to tuck that tactic into my connection toolbox. Another sign of poor Attunement is insensitivity to people’s highs and lows. Celebrating someone’s achievements — a completed semester, a graduation, returning to school later in life — matters more than you might think. Many people would love to go back to school but face barriers, so when a friend succeeds, laying it on a bit thick with praise, a hug, or even a cupcake can be meaningful. Conversely, remembering someone’s loss or being present on hard anniversaries demonstrates care. Social media can help with simple gestures: acknowledging a birthday, congratulating someone on a new house, commenting on a photo of a grandchild, or complimenting someone’s running shoes — tiny validations nourish connection. You don’t need to one-up with a similar story; a short, warm recognition is enough. A related failing is an inability to own mistakes. Many of us weren’t taught how to admit embarrassment or apologize when we’ve hurt someone; instead we clam up, defend, justify, or deflect (“Well, you did the same thing”). If a friend tells you you hurt them, the attuned response is to listen for their feelings: “Are you worried? How do you feel about this? What happens now?” Don’t rush to relate or fix. Ask and listen. For parties and invitations, think about the vulnerability it takes for someone to invite you. If you decline, you don’t need to justify with “I’m going to another amazing party” — that can sting. A gracious decline like “I’m sorry, I have plans that night, but I’d love to see you soon” acknowledges the inviter’s risk and preserves connection. Another way Attunement suffers is by being “shielded” — habitually busy, chronically exhausted, or constantly in crisis. Repeating how busy or tired you are can unintentionally push people away; they stop reaching out because they think you don’t want contact. You can set firm boundaries about your time and energy while still keeping channels for connection open. Boundaries are crucial. People who grew up in dysfunctional homes often lack practice in setting limits and thus keep one foot out the door in relationships — they need to feel confident that they can leave a situation if it becomes uncomfortable. Dogmatism is another barrier: having rigid beliefs — about religion, politics, health, what’s “right” to eat — often alienates others. In groups where the goal is shared (like our daily practice group), we agree to leave politics at the door so the common purpose isn’t derailed. Online comments reveal this too: tender, attuned responses pop up alongside dogmatic ones that insist “you just need X” or declare sweeping, negative generalizations (“nobody cares,” “all men are jerks,” etc.). Pouring your answer onto someone else — “you just need Jesus,” “you just need therapy,” “you must do this one thing” — can shut down connection. If you genuinely want to influence people, start by offering space for them to be themselves; if they’re drawn to your way, they may ask. The principle “attraction not promotion” (often heard in recovery circles) is wise: discovered change sticks when people are invited by example, not force-fed a solution. I remember my Al‑Anon experience — it helped me hugely, but trying to cram it down my family’s throats was ineffective. We don’t know what’s right for each person; we can share what helped us and let others choose. Another form of pushing people away is being untrustworthy in subtle ways. Gossip signals that you’re not safe to confide in: if you regularly talk about absent people for entertainment, others will be drawn but also wary. Exaggeration is another problematic habit — using hyperbole (“no one ever,” “always,” “everyone”) to get attention can come across as unreliable or dramatic. I used to do this to be heard by adults who didn’t listen, but it can harm your credibility. Flakiness — saying “let’s meet” and then failing to commit, or leaving people waiting for a decision — also makes you seem untrustworthy. Why do people develop these habits? Often because their caregivers modeled them or failed to teach social subtleties, or because trauma and neglect impaired the nervous system’s ability to read signals. Attunement is partly a neurological skill: some people can walk into a room and “feel” the mood, while trauma can blunt that sensitivity — either through damaged neural pathways or because you were gaslit about reality as a child. When your nervous system is overloaded — like having headphones blasting — it’s very hard to notice others. Trauma symptoms can also make you more self-focused; surviving in a state of fear uses up your attention, so noticing other people’s states becomes difficult. Defensive reactions to criticism are another fallout of trauma: shame and the fear of being overwhelmed make criticism feel like a threat, so people automatically defend rather than listen. Defense might have been adaptive once, but it fractures friendships. If a friend expresses hurt and you respond defensively, they’ll likely pull away. Practice staying present, letting what they say land, and if you need time, say “I want to think about that” rather than instantly refuting. You can process, then come back and ask a clarifying question like “When you said I wasn’t talking to you at the dinner, was there a specific moment that felt worst? I want to understand.” That kind of openness is high-level Attunement work and will repair and deepen relationships. You’ll also need the courage to use boundaries confidently: knowing you can exit a situation gives you the freedom to enter it. If social situations feel risky, a calm, graceful exit — “I’m going to call it a night, thanks for tonight” — is your safety valve. Learning to buffer intense emotions is another key skill. Trauma can cause emotional dysregulation and sudden, overpowering feelings. Emotional self-regulation isn’t about denying feelings; it’s about choosing appropriate contexts for expressing them — for instance, avoiding breakdowns in front of a boss and instead processing privately, then returning with clear communication. Healing lets you decide how openly emotional you want to be in different domains of life. To develop Attunement, practice paying attention to others, set and use boundaries, and cultivate the habit of curiosity, validation, and owning mistakes. I’ve found the most profound shift in my ability to tune in came from a pair of daily techniques: a specific writing exercise followed by a simple meditation, done twice a day. That practice helped me metaphorically remove those loud headphones so I could truly sense what was happening inside me and in the room. If you want to try them, they’re in a free course I’ve posted (videos and instructions are in the description). I’d love to hear your experience with Attunement in the comments, and I’ll see you very soon.