Originally Published: Nov 17, 2025
When Dr. Gabor Maté speaks or writes, I lean in. His work reshaped the way I understand love, trauma, and connection—especially the triad he teaches so clearly: attachment, attunement, and authenticity. Here’s a clip with Maté explaining attachment and authenticity.
Attachment is our earliest survival bond.
Attunement is the felt sense of being seen and understood. Knowing you matter. Here’s a 4min presentation on why attunement is crucial.
Authenticity is the ability to stay true to ourselves without losing connection to others.
When these three work together, a child grows in safety. When they’re shattered, the entire nervous system carries the cost.
If you want to go deeper, look up Mary Ainsworth’s Attachment Theory—she laid the foundation that Maté builds on. And if you ever need a clean explanation, here’s a solid article breaking down the difference between attunement and attachment.
But here’s the truth: when a child is living with sexual violence, attunement is almost impossible. The very people who are meant to offer protection and emotional resonance are often the same ones inflicting harm, enabling it, or denying it. In those conditions, authenticity becomes dangerous, and attachment becomes distorted. A child would have an easier time reaching the moon than experiencing attunement in that environment.
Yesterday, I watched a mother speak about her son—a love story born from struggle, but never lacking presence. Because of medical malpractice at birth, he lived with severe disabilities. And yet, until his very last breath, she stayed attuned to him. She mirrored his needs, honoured his signals, and held him with fierce authenticity. His life was always going to be short, but I genuinely believe he stayed for 21 years because the two of them were profoundly connected. Their bond was its own medicine.
Infants are entirely dependent on caregivers—not only for food and protection, but for emotional resonance.
Attunement is the nervous system’s language: I see you. I get you. You matter.
When attachment is secure and attunement is present, authenticity can flourish.
When it’s absent, the child learns to silence their truth to stay connected—and that silence can last a lifetime.
When I first learned this, I revisited my own childhood. Suddenly, so much of my relationship with my mother made sense. Because of the violence in our home, there was no space for attunement. But I know she loved me. She simply couldn’t regulate her own nervous system long enough to hold us within the safety of her authenticity.
And still, I was one of the lucky ones.
In my very first week of life, my 18-month-old brother instinctively attached himself to me. Two babies—one barely walking, one freshly born—found attunement in each other. He used to tell me we were twins; I just arrived late.
Today, I honour him.
My brother was an accomplished musician whose favourite stage was the street. He played for his people. He lived outside for more than 40 years and carried Springsteen with him everywhere. Further On (Up the Road) was the song he kept close. He tried so hard to make his way through this world. He stayed as long as he could.
I miss him every second.
I am proud of my brother.
And I will see him, further on up the road.
Here’s the song—press play. I’m already dancing. Join me. 🩷
