It’s been what…almost two months since I wrote a blog post? More so if you remove that the last post was a business update. That is to be expected, life has been full for me as many of you know. My mom’s sickness has required more of my attention than I expected. The community has been growing at an alarming pace. Growth is good though, and I’m grateful for it. I’m all for the new wonderful faces I’m seeing each week.

The last time I wrote about loneliness was in 2024. After reading it, I had a good chuckle because I can see myself trying to sound a certain way. Over polished, or maybe more certain or cool than I actually was, kudos to him for trying to establish a voice!

That said, I want to talk about loneliness again. Primarily because it hasn’t gone anywhere, and if we’re being honest, it probably never will. Loneliness is one of the most consistent human experiences we share. Some of us feel it loudly. Some of us carry it quietly. But almost all of us wrestle with it at some point.

We’re Wired to Need Each Other

Let’s cut to the chase, we are biologically wired for connection. For most of human history, being alone was dangerous. If you were separated from your group, you didn’t last long. You had no protection from other predators and no shared resources to help prolong your life. Loneliness was our defense mechanism to make changes to survive. That system wasn’t mild either, they’re strong visceral reactions to save your life. Might be a bit over the top, but I for one begrudgingly thank my body for the warnings.

It’s my opinion that in the case of loneliness your nervous system doesn’t measure success as its only stability marker. It measures belonging as well and at time even more so. Because we do need people around us. A meaningful community matters, friendship matters, partnership matters, shared experience stabilizes us, and it regulates us.

Sometimes loneliness shows up not because you’re abandoned, but because something is misaligned. Sometimes it shows up because you’ve grown and your environment hasn’t. Sometimes it shows up because you want depth and you’re living in surface-level interactions. Loneliness is not always a crisis. But it is always information, it tells us what we long for and what we’re missing.

Loneliness Doesn’t Look the Same for Everyone

One of the harder parts about loneliness is that it doesn’t present the same way for all of us. Some people feel it in a crowded room, surrounded by friends, laughing, participating, yet still feeling unseen. Others feel it in quiet isolation, unable to bring themselves to be around people at all. There are those who crave connection but struggle to access it, and there are those who are overwhelmed by connection yet still feel misunderstood. Both experiences are real, and neither is wrong.

It took me time to understand that loneliness is not simply about proximity to other humans. It’s about the quality of connection and sometimes even about connection to yourself. You can be deeply loved and still feel alone if you are not known. You can be physically alone and feel steady if you are at peace with who you are and where you are going. The experience is layered, and because it’s layered, it deserves curiosity rather than judgment.

I’ve come to see loneliness as an invitation to look deeper instead of immediately trying to fix it. When it shows up, I try to ask what it’s pointing toward. Is it asking for deeper conversation? More honesty? A change I’ve been avoiding? Sometimes it’s grief. Sometimes it’s transition. Sometimes it’s growth pressing against comfort. Whatever the case, the feeling itself is valid and worth exploring with patience instead of shame.

When I Couldn’t Shake It

There was a season of my life where on paper everything looked right. I was married, I had a great kid, I had a job that most people would have considered successful, and I was actively building community. I was doing what I thought I was supposed to be doing. Yet every day I carried this steady weight of loneliness and dread that I couldn’t rationalize away.

It wasn’t loud or dramatic. It didn’t disrupt my responsibilities. It was just present. I remember questioning myself often, wondering why what I had built didn’t feel like enough. It took time and a lot of uncomfortable honesty to recognize that the loneliness wasn’t about lacking people. It was about feeling alone inside my own marriage. That realization didn’t come easily, and I resisted it for years, 8 long years.

Once I allowed myself to sit with that truth instead of fighting it, things began to shift. Conversations became more direct. Decisions became clearer. Eventually, our lives moved in a different direction. It wasn’t simple and it wasn’t painless, but it was necessary. That loneliness was not there to destroy me. It was there to signal that something foundational needed attention. Listening to it changed the trajectory of my life in ways I’m grateful for now.

Giving Yourself Grace

If you’re feeling lonely right now, I don’t think the answer is to rush and fix it immediately. I also don’t think the answer is to shame yourself for feeling it. Loneliness does not automatically mean something is wrong with you. It means something in you is asking for attention. That’s a very different thing.

And while people can offer perspective, no one else can fully interpret what that feeling means for you. You’re the one who has to live inside your own mind every day. The one carrying your thoughts, your history, your context. That gives you a kind of authority over your own experience that no outside voice can replace.

Take the time to understand it before you try to silence it. You don’t owe anyone a quick resolution. You owe yourself honesty.