You can become so committed to protecting yourself that safety begins resembling isolation.

Every protective measure has a cost in access. Fewer people close enough to hurt you means fewer close enough to know you, and the arrangement builds gradually, each individual precaution making sense at the time. Eventually you arrive somewhere very safe and very empty, and it is difficult to see how you got there because no single step was wrong.

Count how many people could actually reach you at the moment. If the number has been shrinking, pick one relationship and let it come slightly closer. Some risk is not a failure of judgment; it is the price of being known by anyone at all.