Part 1 — Demystifying loneliness

Over the past 4 weeks I have talked to 100+ people about loneliness — from founders, psychologists, spiritual leaders, professors, technologists, educators to artists, Gen Z, millennials, retirees, parents, researchers, anthropologists, experts…

As I dug deeper, I realized I can’t fix something I don’t understand.

• What does loneliness look and feel like?
• What is one’s journey in and out of loneliness?
• Is it a structural or individual problem? Are we building a lonely world?
• How do we design for a world without loneliness?

In the next month, I will publish a 4-part blog series on these questions.

• Part 1 — Landing in loneliness (this blog)
• Part 2 — Journey out of loneliness
• Part 3 — Introducing loneliness busters: lessons from the frontline
• Part 4 — Building a world without loneliness

This is my attempt to make sense of loneliness from the stories I heard and experts I talked to. By no means am I an expert. Consider me an explorer who wants to contribute to a solution.

Let’s get started.

Part 1 — Landing into loneliness

You open your eyes and find yourself in a small room. It is pitch dark.
“Where am I?”
You bang on the door. “I am here. Is anyone around?”
[Silence]
You scream again — “Hey! Is anyone around?”
Your heart is racing. You are sweating.
“Get me out!”
After several failed attempts you are exhausted.
Sitting alone in the room, you start questioning how you landed here.
Is anyone even out there who cares? Why did this happen to you?
Scared. Uncertain. Lonely.

Loneliness is the feeling of not being seen and heard.

Much has been written and researched on how we are wired for social connection and how we suffer without it, physically and mentally. I also summarized the scale of the problem in my last post.

But how does one land into loneliness? What does it feel like?

In my conversations, I saw loneliness creep up in 4 primary forms

• Loneliness of people
• Loneliness of trust
• Loneliness of purpose
• Loneliness of play

Although the four paths to loneliness look different on the surface, they are same at the core — isolating. In fact, it is not uncommon to switch between these forms of loneliness.

Loneliness of people

“I moved from my hometown to Boston for my first job. After the initial excitement wore off, I found myself to be really lonely. I didn’t know anyone. I started shrinking. I drowned myself at work and watched Netflix every evening for 3 months straight. With each passing day it got more and more difficult. I would avoid eye contact in common areas, wear earphones and pretend to be in a rush all the time when in reality I had nowhere to go.”

‘Loneliness of people’ is the most obvious understanding of loneliness. It typically happens when you uproot yourself, move to a new place, get a new job or go through a big life change.

In some ways COVID uprooted each of us from our ‘normal’ social lives. Getting back to a new normal with hybrid / remote work is challenging. Digital media also uprooted us from our natural habitat, replacing quality in-person time in the physical environment by screen time.

This kind of loneliness roots from lack of day-to-day low stakes but caring social connections. You lack the feeling that you are integrated with the community around you.

You can identify this type of loneliness if you agree with the following:
“I don’t know if anyone will even notice if I didn’t exist.”

Loneliness of trust

“I was surrounded by my family but I was alone. Where I come from, you are celebrated to be a doctor, lawyer, accountant or engineer. I wanted to be a writer. I didn’t trust them to understand why I am doing what I am doing. They wouldn’t get it.”

Loneliness of trust is what we mean by “lonely in a room full of people.” We are afraid of not being accepted for who we are. We feel more different than those around us. The important word here is ‘feel.’ We may not actually be as different from our friends or neighbors, but we may still feel different if we struggle to see the shared commonalities.

Examples of this type of loneliness that I saw:

• Fear of rejection of your identity by family, colleagues or loved ones. “I am gay but my family will not accept it.”
• Feeling misunderstood if you have changed but others around you don’t see or appreciate it e.g., new moms, veteran returning from conflict, losing someone you loved

While you can feel loneliness of trust with anyone, it is generally felt the most if you don’t feel seen in your close relationships.

One line to identify this type of loneliness is if you feel
“I don’t know if anyone cares that I exist.”

Loneliness of purpose

“I’ve always been a high achiever. I was the top student in my class, I got into a prestigious college, I landed a great job right out of school. But I feel like I’m just going through the motions, day after day. I’m not making a difference… I am not a part of something .. bigger”

This type of loneliness is difficult to identify. These people have busy lives and a circle of friends (at least initially). They are overachievers. They work overtime … They don’t look lonely.

But loneliness creeps up as you miss being part of a bigger group or purpose. This can evolve into ‘loneliness of people’ as you start distancing yourself from your existing social circles in search of the real meaning of it all.

I particularly found many Gen Zs I talked to falling into this category.

One line to identify this type of loneliness is if you feel / say:
“I feel empty. Why do I exist? Why should the world care that I am here?”

Loneliness of play

“ ‘Why should I celebrate Father’s Day? You are a shitty father.’
My heart broke when I heard these words from my little boy. I have a wonderful wife and 2 kids. I am living my purpose by helping people be healthier, saving their lives. I am successful and rich. I still feel lonely. I feel exhausted. I snap. I am irritable. I was too busy building a career. I didn’t spend time with the people I love or doing things that I enjoyed … I have forgotten how to play”

This type of loneliness was most elusive and puzzling to me. You have everything you need for a fulfilling life but you still feel disconnected and lonely. When I asked these people to close their eyes and describe a time when they felt alive and connected (and not lonely), the answer was always always the same.

A Playground.

No matter who I asked they described some version of their childhood play.

You may be wondering how is play related to loneliness. It is. Building connections needs you to be in a relaxed state (‘rest and digest’ mode). Your body won’t prioritize social connections when you are being chased by a tiger. In our glorified stressful go-go-go lives, we are being chased by imaginary tigers everyday — work deadlines, meeting agendas …

Play is by definition relaxation. People play because they enjoy it, not because they have to. It is voluntary and intrinsically motivated. It has no firm deadlines, pressure or outcomes. It is creative and imaginative. It is social. It is fun. It is full of curiosity and wonder. It breaks the ice and brings you closer to your playmates. It is welcoming. It feels good.

Having the right ingredients for a happy life is not enough, you have to take the time to live it — be present, walk bare feet on the grass, kiss your baby, laugh with your mom, go on a hike, be goofy.

One line to identify this type of loneliness is if you feel:
“I am always busy. I don’t spend time with my loved ones or do things I love.”

What does loneliness feel like?

Words people frequently used to describe their loneliness:

In the mind: feeling disconnected, sad, empty, distrusting or suspicious of others, cynical, unseen / unheard, small, frustrated, started listening to more Linkin Park songs …

In the body: tired, tense or restless, chest pain, heaviness, headaches, muscle pains, sleep and eating problems, falling sick more often, inflammation or flares.

Many ended up in doctors offices with no clear diagnosis. Some stumbled into self-diagnosis when they suddenly didn’t feel sick on a vacation with friends. Others, unfortunately, ended up in the emergency room with acute health failures e.g., heart attacks, strokes.

Before we end this blog, two important things:

Why I don’t like the term ‘loneliness’?

Let’s go back to the scary dark room we started with but now let’s change 2 simple facts.

• Instead of not knowing where you are, let’s say it’s your childhood room.
• Instead of not knowing how you landed there, let’s say you planned to spend the weekend alone in your childhood home to rest.

Would you still feel scared? No. Being alone in a secure and intentional space is considered to be one of the most powerful ways to build self awareness. It is not loneliness.

That’s why I don’t particularly like the word ‘loneliness’ to describe this problem. It’s easy to confuse ‘loneliness’ with being alone. It’s easy to over-simplify the answer as maximizing or optimizing n (n being the number of connections) or even going one step further to stigmatize introversion. Truth couldn’t be further. What feels lonely to you, may be just right for someone else.

Experts always make a note to distinguish ‘being lonely’ vs ‘being alone’ but it’s easy to forget the sub-text. Remember, every person’s need for social connection is different. Being alone is NOT the same as being lonely.

Is loneliness a lack of belonging?

Belongingness is feeling of being — seen and heard, part of something bigger, validated when you show up as yourself and comfortable to disagree without a fear of being ousted.

Belonging is not the same as fitting in. Fitting in may require you to conform to expectations, even if it means changing who you are or what you believe. Belonging, on the other hand, is about feeling accepted and valued for who you are.

Clearly, belongingness feels like an antidote for loneliness. We will explore this relationship further in future blogs.

Now that we know how one lands into loneliness, in the next blog, I will summarize 8 step journey to get out of loneliness.

Until then, have a wonderful week.