When I walk the dogs, I often see an East Asian couple walking theirs. We don’t share the same spoken language. Their English is limited, and I speak none of their language, and yet, whenever we pass, we always connect. It may be with a smile or a nod or a giggle that Douglas is usually begging for a gravy bone. I have come to value these moments as a lovely connection in my day.
We often think of connection as something that happens through conversation; words spoken aloud, explained and understood. But there’s something very moving in the connections that happen even when words are not a part of the connection. That we can be seen, and see others, without needing to narrate is so central when we don’t share the same language.
In ACT (Acceptance and Commitment Therapy), we often speak about connection. This may be connection to others, to our values, and to the present moment. Connection doesn’t have to be big or dramatic. Sometimes it’s in a glance, a smile, or a pause where two people simply are beside one another. Present and human.
As I reflect on these short but meaningful encounters with the couple and our dogs, I’m also reminded that we never really know someone else’s full story.
It’s so tempting to believe we understand who and what we see. Our minds naturally try to fill in the blanks. But what is visible, just as with eating disorders, is only a small part of the picture.
When someone has an eating disorder, the body can become the canvas on which their distress is expressed. The behaviour, the appearance, and the rituals are often not about food at all. They are attempts to communicate pain, fear, overwhelm, and the need for control or care, often without the words to explain it. However, much like seeing the couple walking their dog, whilst there is connection and presence, there is a whole life, a whole history, that I can’t see or know just by looking or seeing a smile.
It’s not until we begin to explore compassionately in a safe space with curiousity and conversation that the fuller picture starts to emerge. Words can be like the outline to a painting. They don’t always tell the whole story, but they help bring shape and clarity. They allow others to begin to understand and they help us to begin to understand ourselves.
Change and healing often involves beginning to find a voice. It certainly did for me. That voice doesn’t have to be polished or perfect. It can begin in the smallest way through writing or through talking with someone who listens. It can begin even in silence, with someone simply sitting beside us, allowing us to feel seen without needing to explain right away.
Dogs, I think, are wonderful teachers in this. They don’t ask us to be anything other than ourselves. They don’t need language to know whether we’re sad or anxious or joyful. They tune in to our presence. They accept. And often, they help us reconnect to a simpler, but vital truth, that we are worthy of kindness and connection just as we are.
So, when I see this couple, walking quietly with their dog, I’m reminded that love and connection are always possible, even without a shared language. But I’m also reminded of the importance of words – not to justify ourselves, but to give outline and shape to our experience. Words are there for us to ask for support and to begin to tell the truth of our experience.
We don’t have to choose between silence and speech, between gesture and explanation. Both belong. Most importantly, connection begins in presence and grows when we allow ourselves to be known, in the ways that feel safe and possible.
Sometimes the full picture is painted with many materials. Sometimes the outlines arrive slowly, as we begin to trust that our voice matters. And always, always, there is more to each of us than meets the eye.
With June love,
Sarah x
FAQs
Is it possible to feel connected to others without talking?
Absolutely. Connection doesn’t always need words. We all have the ability to connect in a way that feel best for us as individuals. For some it may be a shared smile, a glance, or just being with someone which creates a feeling of warmth and belonging. The small moments can be especially helpful when we feel isolated or overwhelmed.
Why do eating disorders sometimes feel like the only way to express feelings?
When emotions or needs feel too big, shameful, hard to put into words, the body can become a form of communication. Behaviours around food, appearance, or control may be ways of expressing distress, even if no one else understands the message. It’s a form of trying to be heard, seen, or soothed.
If my eating disorder is a form of communication, how can I begin to speak differently?
Healing often involves gently identifying and learning to name what’s going on for us. This may be about feelings, needs, fears, and hopes. You might start using journaling, talking with a trusted friend or therapist, or even just saying one true thing out loud. Every small step toward using your voice is a sign of courage and change.
What if people misunderstand me when I try to speak up?
Being misunderstood can be painful, especially if you’re already feeling vulnerable. The more you practise speaking your truth, the more confident you will become. In safe, compassionate relationships, people will want to understand you, even if they don’t get it right straight away.
Isn’t connection risky if I’ve been hurt or judged in the past?
Yes, connection can feel risky, especially if you’ve experienced shame, rejection, or misunderstanding. It makes sense to feel cautious. The key is to go at your own pace with safe people, knowing you can set boundaries. Connection isn’t about being wide open with everyone. It is about being real with those who’ve earned your trust.
I find it easier to connect with animals than people. Is that okay?
Absolutely. Animals often offer the kind of non-judgemental presence that humans struggle to give. If connecting with your dog, cat or rabbit, or whatever pet you have, feels easier and safer, that’s valid and a great place to start. These relationships can be a bridge, gently helping you feel more open to human connection in time.
Can I still find connection when I feel like I have lost myself in my eating disorder?
Yes. The part of you that longs for connection is still there, even if it is buried under layers of fear, shame, or self-protection. Connection can help you rediscover and nourish yourself. You don’t have to be ‘healed’ or ‘whole’ to connect. Show up as you are.
What if I don’t know what to say?
That’s okay. You don’t need to have the perfect words. Sometimes the simplest things such as “I’m struggling,” “I feel alone,” or “I don’t know how to explain it” are the most powerful. Words help shape the picture, but you don’t need the whole story to begin.
Sarah Parker, MBACP (Accredited) is a psychotherapist based in West Yorkshire, with a special interest in eating disorders, disordered eating, and neurodivergence. Originally trained in relational counselling, she later qualified in Eye Movement Desensitization and Reprocessing (EMDR), Compassion-Focused Therapy (CFT), and Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT).
Sarah’s experience spans a range of settings, including working with survivors of rape and sexual abuse, as well as many years supporting individuals and groups in NHS mental health teams and a specialist eating disorder service. She is also an experienced trainer and educator, delivering workshops on working safely and effectively with people with eating disorders. In addition to her training work, she has been a guest on several podcasts and previously co-hosted her own.
Now in private practice, Sarah’s approach is shaped by her professional expertise and lived experience of an eating disorder. She is passionate about fostering a hopeful, compassionate, and collaborative space where clients can move toward meaningful change.