🌹 Love in the Waiting Room: Reflections on Attachment, Resilience, and Turning Toward One Another

By Dr. Hanna Cespedes, Ph.D., LPC, ACS, NCC

(Pacifica Counseling & Psychiatry)

A Scene at Mayo Clinic

A few weeks ago, I found myself sitting in the waiting room at Mayo Clinic. It was a routine

follow-up appointment, nothing major, just me practicing what I always tell my clients to

do—take care of yourself first so you can show up better for everyone else.

Since moving to Rochester, I’ve been struck by the same energy I felt the day my plane landed. Not just the nerves that come with wrangling three kids under five, but a real sense of awe and healing that seems to fill this place.

I’ve lived in a handful of cities, each with its own rhythm and energy. Louisville, Kentucky will

always be home in the deepest sense. It feels like grandma’s house, probably because that’s

literally where she was. It’s warm, simple, and full of memory, even if it has changed from how I remember it. North Atlanta, where I spent most of my youth, has always felt like peaceful productivity. It’s suburbia that hums with movement but somehow stays calm. Athens was like living inside a kaleidoscope—colorful, creative, always turning, full of motion and life. Macon carried some of that same North Atlanta familiarity, but the culture and history there made it feel deeply rooted and soulful. I still consider that city home because of its people and community.

And now, Rochester. It’s busy, full of people from every walk of life, but there’s something

different here. There’s a spirit of healing woven through everything, a quiet sense of courage and safety. On every walk or run, I pass people who have come from all over the country, many visibly ill, some whispering about the specialists they’ve traveled miles to see. My recent waiting room visit was no different.

As I sat reading Freud & Beyond (yes, I read psychoanalysis for fun), my attention was drawn to a couple across the room. They weren’t saying much, but they kept giggling softly. The hospital bracelet on her wrist and the tired look in her eyes told me she was a patient, but her laughter told me something else—that she was more than that. She was a partner, a lover, someone still full of life. Her person sat beside her with a backpack and what looked like her chart notes. When her name was called, they did something that completely caught my heart. They reached out and did a small handshake ritual, two hands meeting in the middle and then parting again, like a heart forming and unfolding. It lasted maybe two seconds, but it felt sacred. As therapists often do when out in the world, I found myself imagining their story. It was probably one of illness and uncertainty, but also one of love and resilience.

Attachment and the Science of Safety

In the language of attachment theory, what I saw was a secure connection in motion. Our nervous systems are built to find safety through others. When life gets unpredictable, whether through illness, loss, or everyday stress, it’s the closeness of another person that helps us calm down and find hope again.

Research in emotionally focused therapy and attachment science shows that resilient couples aren’t the ones who avoid pain. They’re the ones who turn toward each other when things get hard. Connection doesn’t erase suffering, but it does soften it. When this happens

intentionally—not perfectly, but with care—and those bids for connection are met and

reinforced, the sense of safety between two people grows stronger, even in unexpected places like a hospital waiting room.

At Pacifica Counseling & Psychiatry, we often help couples find that rhythm again after years of disconnection. We help them notice small bids for connection, repair ruptures quickly instead of reactively, and communicate needs with honesty and kindness. These skills form the foundation of secure attachment and relational resilience. I have no idea what that couple’s full story was, but as I watched through slightly tear-filled eyes, I had the sense they were one of the good ones. Partners who, despite life’s inevitable challenges, had built a steady rhythm of responsiveness, attunement, and trust.

Rituals of Love and Resilience

What stayed with me most about that couple was their small ritual. In attachment terms, these are called micro-moments of attunement—brief exchanges that quietly say, “I see you. I’m here. We’re in this together.” Not flashy like social media posts, but simple and powerful.

Over time, these little moments create safety and connection, especially in seasons of stress or chaos. They might look like a handshake, a nickname, a weekly date night, or a nightly check-in before bed. They remind us that even when we can’t control life’s uncertainty, we can still offer presence, humor, and love.

A Thanksgiving Reflection

As we move into the holiday season, a time when stress, family, and expectations often collide, I encourage couples to do what that pair in the waiting room did—turn toward one another. Create small rituals of connection. Laugh even when it’s hard. Offer presence when words fall short. Because in the end, resilience isn’t just about what we go through. It’s about who we become together in the process.

About the Author

Dr. Hanna Cespedes, Ph.D., M.S., LPC, ACS, is the Founder and CEO of Pacifica Counseling & Psychiatry. She integrates attachment theory, psychodynamic principles, and resilience-based practice to help individuals, couples, and professionals deepen connection, meaning, and healing

in their lives.