Don’t You Get Lonely?

It’s the question everyone asks when they find out you live alone. The assumption is always the same—if you’re on your own, you must be lonely.

And sometimes, yeah. I am.

But here’s the thing: loneliness isn’t always a problem to be solved. It’s a feeling, like any other. And like any other feeling, it doesn’t last forever.

For me, loneliness is often a sign that I’m bored, or somehow dissatisfied with what I’m spending my time on. That I should get off my behind and go DO something. Sometimes that might be with other people, but more often than not, I’ll find something better to do by myself.

We have this idea that being alone should be an unbroken stretch of contentment, productivity, and peace. That if you’re doing it “right,” you never feel lonely at all. But loneliness isn’t a sign that you’ve failed at living alone—it’s just part of the human experience.

It’s a contrast. And this contrast makes my social time feel more meaningful.


Loneliness Comes and Goes

Living alone doesn’t mean you’re lonely all the time. Most of the time, it’s great. You get to do what you want, when you want, without answering to anyone. You can go entire days without making small talk. You control your space, your schedule, your whole life.

But every once in a while, loneliness shows up—maybe on a quiet Sunday when there’s nothing planned, or after a long day when there’s no one to share it with. It doesn’t mean there’s something wrong with your life. It just means you’re human.

Some people fear loneliness so much that they try to fill every silence with noise, every empty space with people, every free moment with distraction. But being alone isn’t something that needs to be “fixed.” It’s something to live through, sit with, and accept.


You Don’t Have to Fear the Quiet

One of the biggest gifts of living alone is learning to be comfortable in your own company. Not every moment needs to be filled, and not every feeling needs to be changed. Sometimes, loneliness is just the background hum of a quiet evening, and that’s okay.

When you stop treating loneliness as a problem, it loses its impact.  You start to recognise it for what it is—a passing moment, not a permanent state.

I’m a words guy—words are how I shape my own world in so many ways. So, rather than “I’m lonely”, I reframe it to “I’m feeling lonely right now”. It’s not a huge shift in terms of language, but in terms of the weight of the feeling? For me, that shift is massive.

It takes it from “I am…” to “I am experiencing…”. Something that I am is a HUGE thing. Something that I’m experiencing is transitory.

There’s power in being able to sit with your own thoughts. In not needing to reach for your favourite distraction (phone) the second after silence creeps in.

Loneliness is an experience, and you become more whole by allowing yourself to dwell in that experience when it occurs.


Loneliness Is Part of the Deal—And That’s Not a Bad Thing

No matter how full your life is, everyone feels lonely sometimes. Even people in relationships. Even people with big families and busy social lives.

The difference is, when you live alone, you don’t get to ignore it. You don’t get to just make it go away by pulling other people into your life.

And maybe that’s a good thing. Because when you face loneliness instead of running from it, you get stronger. You stop fearing time by yourself. You learn to be content with your own thoughts. You realise that being alone and being lonely aren’t the same thing.

So yeah, sometimes I get lonely. But I wouldn’t trade the life I have—the space, the freedom, the self-sufficiency—for the illusion that being around people all the time would magically make that feeling disappear.

Because it wouldn’t. And because I’ve learned something important:

Loneliness isn’t the opposite of happiness. It’s just part of life.