Hello my friends,

We are currently in that strange, liminal week between Christmas and New Year’s.

You’re not quite sure what day it is. The big holiday rush is over, the leftovers are dwindling, and the pressure of the New Year’s resolutions hasn’t quite kicked in yet.

For a long time, I used to view this week as a time to recover—specifically, to recover from people.

As a natural introvert, the holiday season often felt like a battery drain. The parties, the small talk, the expectations… by December 27th, I usually just wanted to hide under a blanket.

But this year, sitting here with my newborn daughter and my husband during our first Christmas as a family of three, I’ve been thinking about a paradox.

We often treat social connection as an "obligation"—something we have to survive. But the science tells us it’s actually a biological necessity, something that fuels our survival.

And looking back at my own life, I realize that the single healthiest decision I ever made wasn’t about eating kale or kickboxing.

It was about the guy in the back row.

I wasn’t always the friendliest person.

Back in high school and college, I had a very specific strategy for making friends: I waited.

I would sit back and wait for people to come to me. I usually had one or two best friends at a time, and I clung to them. But whenever they weren’t around—if they had to be somewhere, or busy with other people—I felt a profound, aching loneliness.

I saw other people laughing in big groups, looking effortless, and I felt like I was on the outside looking in.

It took me a long time to realize that my strategy was broken. I was protecting myself from rejection, but I was also ensuring my own isolation.

I realized that if I wanted connection, I couldn’t just wait for it to happen to me. I had to build it.

I remember the day I decided to test this new theory.

I was in my college algebra class. Our professor had arranged the seating in alphabetical order. My maiden name was Santos, and sitting next to me was a guy named Sanchez.

Fate (and the alphabet) had put us together in the back row. But the old Grazelle would have kept her head down, pulled out a notebook, and ignored the guy next to her.

But that day, I felt a nudge. I remembered how lonely it felt to wait.

So, I turned to him. I smiled. I initiated a conversation.

I didn’t know it then, but that "seat mate" would become my best friend. Then my boyfriend. And now, he is my husband and the father of the little girl sleeping in my arms.

(Yes, I’m voice dictating this letter. That’s what technology is for 😉)

The seating chart gave me the opportunity, but it didn’t guarantee the connection. That required a choice.

One moment of social courage. One decision to initiate rather than wait.

It changed the entire trajectory of my life.

We tend to romanticize stories like this—and we should, because love is beautiful. But as a board-certified Lifestyle Medicine professional, I also look at this through a different lens.

We often separate "health" (diet, exercise, sleep) from "social life" (fun, parties, friends).

But the data shows they are inextricable.

The Harvard Study of Adult Development is the longest-running study on happiness and health in history. For more than 85 years, researchers have tracked participants to see what actually makes humans flourish.

Their conclusion isn’t about cholesterol levels or VO2 max. It’s this: Relationships are the strongest predictor of emotional and physical health as we age.

When we connect with others, it’s not just "nice." It’s physiological.

I’ve seen this firsthand in my 11 years as a physical therapist. The patients who have strong support systems—someone to talk to, someone to drive them, someone to care—almost always heal faster and manage pain better than those who are isolated.

Loneliness isn’t just a feeling. It’s a state of physiological stress that prevents the body from repairing itself.

In the health and wellness world, you’ll often hear influencers talk about relationships like they are a biohack.

While the science is true, the mindset feels backwards to me.

I don’t keep my family and friends around just to optimize my biomarkers.

I don’t keep my loved ones to be healthy. I strive to be healthy for them.

My relationships are both the journey and the destination. My health is the vehicle.

I exercise and eat well not so I can look good in a mirror, but so I can have the energy to play with my daughter. So I can have the longevity to travel with my husband. So I can show up for the people I love without being held back by preventable disease.

This values-based approach is also exactly why I don’t eat 100% whole food plant-based.

I follow a 90% plant-based approach. That missing 10% isn’t because I lack willpower. It’s a deliberate choice I make for self-compassion and connection.

Most of my family and friends don’t eat the way I do. If I were rigid about being 100% perfect with my diet, I would miss out on the shared experience of breaking bread with them.

Food is a language of love.

Right after I got home from the hospital after giving birth, my church friends organized a meal train for us for a week. They dropped by with incredible generosity—fruits, soup, chicken tacos, chocolates, comfort food.

Because of that 10% flexibility, I was able to eat those tacos and chocolates with pure gratitude. I didn’t feel like I "fell off the wagon." I didn’t make a fuss. I simply received their love in the form it was given.

If prioritizing "perfect" nutrition means rejecting a friend’s generosity or isolating myself at a family dinner, then it’s not actually healthy. It’s just rigid.

So, how do we practice "Social Fitness" without burning out? Especially during the holidays?

If you are an introvert like me, the advice to "just get out there" can feel exhausting.

But here is what I’ve learned when it comes to connection:

1. The 1-on-1 Power. I used to think being "social" meant working a room at a party. That drains me instantly. But I’ve learned that while crowds deplete my energy, meaningful 1-on-1 connection recharges it.

This is why I love my work as a physical therapist. I focus on one person at a time. I listen. We connect. That exchange gives me energy.

You don’t have to attend the massive New Year’s Eve bash to be socially fit. You can say no to the party and say yes to a lunch date (or FaceTime) with one friend. That counts. In fact, for us, it counts more.

2. The Smallest Viable Action. Connection doesn’t always need to be a deep, soul-baring conversation. Research shows that even "weak ties"—interactions with strangers—boost happiness.

A simple smile. Opening a door for someone. Saying "hello" to the cashier.

I wasn’t the friendliest person back in high school because I overcomplicated it. I thought I had to be charming or interesting. Now I know I just have to be present.

3. Be the Initiator. This is the hardest one, but the most important.

The fear of rejection is real. The fear of awkwardness is real. But the loneliness of waiting is worse.

For the past couple of years, I’ve made it a practice to be the one who reaches out first. It doesn’t have to be everyone. Even if it’s just one person. Even if it’s just a text. Even if it’s just a meme. It feels good to break the silence.

As we head into 2026, many of us are writing down resolutions about gym memberships and meal plans.

Those are great. I love those.

But I want to challenge you to add one meaningful metric to your list: Connection.

Who is sitting in the "back row" of your life right now?

Who is that friend you haven’t texted in months because you’re "too busy"? Who is the family member you’ve been meaning to video chat with? Who is the person you’ve been waiting for?

Don’t wait for them to come to you.

My life changed because I turned to the person next to me and said hello. Your health—and your happiness—might just depend on doing the same.

Try this today: Send one text. Just one. "Thinking of you, hope you had a good Christmas."

That’s it. That’s the rep. That’s the practice.

Happy New Year, friends. I’ll see you in 2026.

With gratitude,

Grazelle 🌱

P.S. Speaking of support systems, having a newborn has made me realize how vital it is to accept help. My husband brought me hot chocolate while I was writing this—simple acts of service are love languages too. What does your support system look like right now? Reply and let me know.

Whenever you’re ready, here are some other (free) resources you can check out: