Cultivating Connection: A Gentle Reflection on Networking and Vulnerability
Cultivating Connection: A Gentle Reflection on Networking and Vulnerability: A quiet meditation on the courage it takes to reach out, and the slow rhythm of building trust.
Written by David Bolander
Date: September 10, 2025
Networking, at its heart, is about connection—not just contact. As therapists, we know that healing happens in relationship, and the same is true for professional growth. We hope that through networking we’ll find colleagues to refer to, collaborate with, learn from, and be supported by. But these outcomes rarely happen overnight. They require time, trust, and mutual investment.
As Ivan Misner, founder of Business Network International, reminds us: “Networking is more about farming than it is about hunting. It’s about cultivating relationships.” This metaphor speaks directly to the therapeutic spirit. Just as we hold space for clients to unfold at their own pace, networking asks us to show up with presence, care, and patience.
And as Brené Brown, whose work bridges psychotherapy and leadership, writes: “Connection is why we’re here; it is what gives purpose and meaning to our lives.” Her research on vulnerability and trust offers a language for what many of us feel but struggle to name. In the context of networking, this reminds us that outreach isn’t just about growing a practice—it’s about cultivating belonging. When we network from a place of authenticity, we’re not just building professional relationships—we’re tending to the very soil of connection that sustains us.
Of course, showing up as our authentic selves isn’t always easy—especially in the early stages of building a practice. Imposter syndrome has a way of creeping in, whispering doubts about our worth, our readiness, and our place in the professional landscape. I’ve felt it myself, both in the therapy room and in moments of outreach. What do I have to offer? Will I be taken seriously? These questions can make networking feel like exposure rather than connection. But I’m learning that authenticity—or even competency—isn’t about having all the answers. It’s about showing up with integrity, even when we feel uncertain.
Even when we do reach out—crafting a thoughtful message or making that first phone call—there’s no guarantee we’ll get a response. Sometimes we’re met with silence. Sometimes a connection sparks but fizzles. And sometimes, slowly, something begins to grow. I’ve learned that networking isn’t a one-time act—it’s a rhythm. It takes more than one message, one meeting, or one moment to build the kind of trust that leads to referrals, collaboration, or mentorship.
The beginning steps can feel awkward, discouraging, or even like our efforts have fallen flat. It’s easy to interpret silence or slow responses as failure, especially when we’re putting ourselves out there with vulnerability and hope. But I’m learning that these early attempts aren’t failures—they’re part of the rhythm. Each outreach, even the ones that seem to go nowhere, is a gesture of courage. And sometimes, it’s the accumulation of these quiet gestures that begins to build momentum. Each attempt is a seed—one that, over time, can grow into relationships rooted in mutual respect and shared care.
So if you’re in the early stages of your practice—or even years in and still navigating the vulnerability of outreach—I want to offer this: your presence matters. Your voice, your questions, your gestures of connection are enough. You don’t need to have it all figured out to reach out. You just need to begin.
Whether you’re sending that first message, attending a peer gathering, or simply wondering how to be seen in this field, know that you’re not alone. Networking isn’t a performance—it’s a practice. And like all practices, it deepens with time, intention, and care.
If this reflection resonates with you, I’d love to connect. Whether you’re a fellow therapist, a coach, a healer, or someone navigating the same questions—I welcome the conversation. Let’s keep tending to the soil together.
And if you’d like to linger with this post a little longer, here are a few gentle invitations to reflect:
What kind of connection are you longing for in your professional life right now?
Where in your work do you feel most rooted in belonging?
What helps you stay grounded when self-doubt begins to stir?
What rhythms of connection are you cultivating in your own practice?
What small gesture of courage are you ready to plant today?
Who might you reach out to—not for answers, but for connection?