What's in a Name?

In my last blog, I shared how the idea for Applied Attachment began. Originally, it wasn't even a therapy practice. It was a consulting company built around one belief: attachment doesn't just belong in the therapy room—it belongs everywhere people are in relationship with one another.

But how did the name Applied Attachment come to be?

Like many people these days, I started with a conversation.

At the beginning of 2026, when I decided I wanted to begin offering business consulting, I sat down with ChatGPT. (At that point, I had absolutely no plans for this to become a therapy practice. That didn't happen until the spring of 2026.)

I told Chat what I was hoping to create. We talked about attachment theory, leadership, relationships, connection, and why I believed this work mattered outside of counseling offices. It gave me idea after idea after idea.

Some were good.

Some were...creative.

None of them felt quite right.

For a while, I was convinced the name was The Secure Base Collective.

I loved it.

My friends loved it.

My husband was...neutral.

To be fair, one of the greatest gifts in our marriage is his remarkable ability to stay neutral. I spend my days helping people navigate emotions, conflict, and relationships. By the time I come home, I've usually used up most of my own neutrality. So I borrow his. Relationships co-regulate, remember?

Then I shared The Secure Base Collective with my parents.

Without missing a beat they said, "Collective reminds us of the Borg from Star Trek."

Well...

That was the end of that.

Once someone says "Borg," you can't exactly unhear it.

Needless to say, becoming associated with a race of emotionless beings who assimilate everyone into a hive mind wasn't exactly the attachment vibe I was hoping for.

So it was back to the drawing board.

Chat and I generated another list. Probably ten more names. Maybe more.

Oddly enough, I felt...nothing.

Usually I have strong opinions. This time I was surprisingly neutral. Every name was fine, but none of them felt like it.

Later that evening, after dinner, my husband and I were sitting at our kitchen island going through the list one more time.

I read, "Applied Attachment."

For the first time all day, my husband's face changed.

He lit up.

If you've been married for a while, you know the look I'm talking about. It's that moment when someone's face tells you what their words haven't said yet.

"That's it."

Looking across the kitchen island, I recognized something that attachment theory has taught me to pay attention to for years.

Security.

The decision suddenly became incredibly easy.

Here's the part that still makes me smile.

I don't actually think I fell in love with the name first.

I fell in love with his response to it. Isn't that such an attachment story?

We like to imagine that our biggest decisions happen independently—that we weigh the options, analyze the facts, and confidently choose the best answer all by ourselves.

But attachment teaches us something different.

Healthy relationships don't make us less independent.

They help organize us.

They give us clarity when we're uncertain.

They help us notice what matters.

Looking back, it feels fitting that the name Applied Attachment wasn't chosen in isolation. It emerged in conversation—with technology, with my family, and ultimately with the person who has been my secure base for years.

There's something beautifully ironic about that.

A company built around the science of relationships was named through relationship.

I couldn't have planned a better origin story if I tried.