Making 2026 the year of belonging

If you take just one thing from this work, let it be this: relationships change lives. Relationships are the strongest predictor of our wellbeing and one of the most protective factors we have.

An 85-year study of human happiness, now known as the Harvard Study of Adult Development, followed people across decades and across very different life circumstances. The findings were clear. It wasn’t wealth, status, or achievement that predicted who stayed healthiest. It was the quality and warmth of their relationships. People who felt more connected to others lived longer and experienced better physical and mental health.

Which makes sense.

Researchers suggest that close relationships act as stress regulators. They help our bodies settle and return to equilibrium after stress, lowering the risk of chronic illness, cognitive decline, and long-term health issues.

We are relational beings. From infancy, we rely on caregivers to help regulate stress. As we grow, peers, partners, colleagues, and communities take on this role. We are not designed to manage stress alone.

When trauma occurs early in life, this process is disrupted. Relational templates are shaped by unpredictability, threat, or harm. Closeness can feel unsafe. Trusting others can feel risky. Many trauma-impacted young people want connection deeply while also resisting it. This is a survival response.

And many of you reading this are the consistent adults in their lives.

If you are a full-time teacher, for example, you spend around 180 days each year with your students. That is 180 opportunities for connection. 180 chances to show consistency, predictability, and care. 180 moments to show that others can be reliable.

What we are often less explicit about is what we need in order to keep doing this work.

If relationships are central to wellbeing, they matter just as much for us as they do for the people we support. That includes knowing we are held by others, that we have places to offload, to be understood, to regulate, and to reconnect.

Relational work asks something of us every day. It draws on our patience, empathy, and emotional energy. I often remind professionals that we are not in two-way compassionate relationships with the children and young people we support. We give far more compassion than we receive in return. That means we need to be mindful of the relationships that sustain us, too.

Belonging in our work communities strengthens us. And it is one of the reasons people choose to stay.

The pain of not belonging

Most of us know the pain of not belonging.

That moment of feeling outside the circle. Unsure of your place. Sensing that your presence is tolerated rather than welcomed. It is deeply uncomfortable, and it can linger long after the moment has passed.

I was reminded of this recently at a dinner party I attended with my partner. A small miscommunication meant the hosts were unsure whether I was meant to be there. It was joked about throughout the evening. Comments about seating and numbers. Nothing overtly cruel, but enough to make my place in the room feel uncertain.

I didn’t know the hosts well. Everyone else shared years of history that I didn’t. I smiled, joined in, and did what many of us do in those moments. But internally, it hurt.

Neuroscience helps us understand why experiences like this can feel so painful. The brain processes social exclusion in much the same way it processes physical pain. Not belonging doesn’t just feel bad. It literally hurts.

From an evolutionary perspective, this makes sense. For most of human history, belonging to a group was essential for survival. Disconnection signalled danger. Our nervous systems still carry this alarm system.

For people impacted by trauma, that alarm has often been sounding for years.

And some workplaces, unfortunately, can mirror these experiences. When adults feel excluded, misunderstood, or unsupported at work, the same survival responses activate. When that happens, our capacity for relational work is compromised.

What is belonging?

Belonging is a core human need. It is the need to feel accepted, valued, connected, and held by others.

Belonging is less about fitting in and more about being accepted as our authentic selves. It also goes beyond being accepted. It includes mattering. Feeling that who we are and what we bring makes a difference. That our presence counts.

So how do we support others to feel like they belong?

One of the best pieces of advice I received early in my career came from a principal I worked with as a graduate teacher. She said:

“There is something likeable in every one of these kids. Some of them will try to make it hard to find it, but it is now your job to find it and hold on to it, particularly on the more difficult days.”

I’ve carried that advice with me ever since, and it’s never failed me.

This lens made it easier to form genuine relationships with young people. It helps us look for strengths, not just behaviour. It encourages authenticity rather than compliance. It becomes easier to see their potential and their future. And it is not only beneficial for them. It is more sustainable for us.

Many of the former students and young people who have reached out to me years later, the ones who have built stability, purpose, and meaningful relationships, seem to share something in common.

They found belonging.

Somewhere. With someone. In a rhythm of life where they felt safe, valued, and connected. Often through relationships with adults who kept showing up.

What is often missed is that this way of relating not only benefits children and young people. It sustains the adults who show up for them. When relationships are grounded in genuine regard, they become a source of energy rather than depletion.

Unconditional Positive Regard, for all of us

This is where the idea of Unconditional Positive Regard becomes essential.

At its heart, it is not a technique, but a stance. It invites us to separate the person from their behaviour, to refuse to define someone by a difficult moment, and to hold belief in growth and change. This does not mean abandoning boundaries or expectations. It means meeting people where they are, while still holding responsibility and care.

It is often easier to practise this with trauma-impacted young people than it is with adults.

Many workplace cultures quietly discourage it. Adults are expected to know better. To perform without friction. To leave emotion at the door. When adults struggle, show emotion, or behave differently, judgement often follows.

But adults, just like young people, have nervous systems shaped by history. They carry stress, loss, and unmet needs. If we genuinely want trauma-informed workplaces, we need to extend the same grace to adults that we offer to children.

Belonging is built in small moments

Belonging is not built through grand initiatives or one-off wellbeing days. It grows through small, repeated experiences of being seen, valued, and held in relationship.

In busy, trauma-impacted workplaces, connection is often the first thing to slip. The good news is that it can also be rebuilt in ordinary, human ways.

Some of the practices that can make a big difference include:

• Looking for the strengths in our colleagues.
  Under pressure, it is easy to reduce people to a single behaviour, frustration, or moment. Actively noticing strengths interrupts that pattern and protects trust.

• Strengthening everyday interactions.
  Being greeted by name. Beginning meetings with brief human connection. Acknowledging effort after difficult moments, not only after success.

• Creating space for mentoring and intergenerational connection.
  When newer and more experienced staff are siloed, everyone loses. When energy, knowledge, and wisdom flow both ways, people feel valued and supported.

• Using strengths-based approaches.
  Shifting attention from what is missing to what is already present reconnects people to meaning, competence, and purpose.

• Practising relational gratitude.
  Gratitude strengthens belonging when it is specific and relational. Noticing effort, care, and intention reminds people that they matter.

• Having a voice in the bigger picture.
  Belonging erodes quickly when people are excluded from decisions that affect their daily work. Being consulted, informed, and acknowledged matters.

None of these practices work in isolation. Belonging is cumulative. And we cannot ask people to create belonging for others if they do not experience it themselves. Belonging, like all trauma-informed work, is part of how we choose to be with each other, every day.

Partnering with Wagtail Institute

At Wagtail Institute, we work alongside schools, carers, and organisations in complex, trauma-impacted settings to support trauma-informed wellbeing, staff culture, and sustainable practice.

If you’re ready to carry this work differently, and not alone, we’d love to walk alongside you. Schedule a call with Megan.

References:

Baumeister, R. F., & Leary, M. R. (1995). The need to belong: Desire for interpersonal attachments as a fundamental human motivation. Psychological Bulletin, 117(3), 497–529.

Eisenberger, N. I., Lieberman, M. D., & Williams, K. D. (2003). Does rejection hurt? An fMRI study of social exclusion.
Science, 302(5643), 290–292. https://doi.org/10.1126/science.1089134

McLean, J. (2016). Relationship-based practice in residential care: A literature review. Child & Family Social Work, 21(2), 217–227. https://doi.org/10.1111/cfs.12144

Rogers, C. R. (1961). On Becoming a Person. Houghton Mifflin.

Waldinger, R. J., & Schulz, M. S. (2023). The Good Life: Lessons from the World’s Longest Scientific Study of Happiness. Simon & Schuster.