Loneliness Isn’t a Weakness — It’s a Signal. So Why Do We Treat It Like a Dirty Secret?

Every time I’ve been on the brink of admitting how lonely I really feel, something stops me. I remember the world we live in - a world where vulnerability can so swiftly be used against you and shame quickly swallows my words.

That’s been my reality for the last three years.

After a traumatic relationship a few years ago, my perception of people—and my place in the world—shifted. There are relationships that help you grow, and there are relationships that slowly erode your sense of self and trust in your own voice.

Of course, the growth that can come from experiences like this can be deeply transformational—but it took me a long time to return to a regulated state.

Looking back, I coped by silencing myself and losing trust—not just in others, but in myself. In some ways, that had its benefits. I wasn’t surrounded by a community that felt honest or supportive. Stepping back gave me clarity. It allowed me to start over and create space to relearn who I was, and to let go of people and situations that never truly showed up for me.

Shame held on tightly. For years, I was frozen—wondering if I was to blame for the abuse that traumatised me. That shame turned into silence. And in that silence, I grew more and more sceptical of who I could trust—who I could share myself with safely and honestly.

Eventually, I began to distance myself from everything. I moved house. I changed jobs. I enrolled in my studies. That was 2023.

And somewhere in that year, I noticed something. The people I had once called friends never even checked in to see where I’d gone. At first, that hurt. But with time, I felt free—because I no longer had to wonder who was really in my corner. I could finally ask myself the questions that actually mattered: What kind of life do I want to live? And how do I want to feel in it?

And that’s when I realised something deeper. That isolation I felt—what I thought was just a byproduct of my healing—was also exactly what Western society encourages: to disconnect. To self-regulate. To heal in silence. To think individually.

And here’s what I learned in that space; that’s exactly how Western society wants us to think: individually.

We glorify independence. We celebrate the “self-made” narrative. And at first, I bought into it. I started feeling empowered by handling everything alone. But deep down, I knew it wasn’t right. This isn’t how humans are wired.

We are social beings. We live as part of an ecosystem. Our mental health and wellbeing are statistically higher when we live in community - yet society tells us to go it alone, to find fault only within ourselves, as if the self exists in a vacuum.

So I started sharing again.

And then… deleting it.

Fear of judgment gripped me. I lost my confidence. That’s the thing about being gaslit: it erodes your sense of reality until only solitude can rebuild it.

Isolation has its value — it can give you the space to remember who you are. But without connection, it becomes its own kind of harm. We’ve got the balance wrong. We need togetherness. But instead, our society breeds a lack of values and character, leaving us chasing success that would come more naturally if we pursued it along side one another.

It took me over a year to reach the point where I truly didn’t care what people thought anymore. That’s when I realised just how much I’d hidden - not only my voice, but my skills in psychology, therapy, and determination for social change.

And for the first time, I admitted it: I’m lonely.

The reaction was surprising. I got more responses than anything I’d ever posted. And almost every one said the same thing.

We are in a loneliness epidemic; And no, it does not possess one gender over another - it is a symptom of western society.

Here are some ways that we are taking part in this epidemic without being aware of it:

1. Western ideals have taught us that if we’re sad, struggling, or overwhelmed, it’s our fault. That we’re weak, unmotivated, broken. We rarely consider that the systems and structures around us might actually be the cause. When therapy or wellness culture becomes hyper-individualised, it feeds into this idea that you just need to “fix yourself” when in fact, you might be reacting appropriately to a sick society.

2. We treat autonomy as isolation.

   Autonomy in the West is sold as “doing it all alone.” But what about relational autonomy? The kind that recognises we’re shaped by culture, gender, race, class, and the communities we exist in? True autonomy isn’t about rejecting others - it’s about being supported to make meaningful choices within your own context.

   Its about reframing success and valuing community and inter-independence because we see its correlation to personal success and eudemonic happiness.

3. We confuse silence with healing.

   Sometimes we stay quiet because we’re still trying to survive in environments where we fear being misunderstood or judged. Silence can be wisdom, it can also be healing when we do it for the right reasons, like learning about ourselves. But it can also be a survival strategy, and a response to what we’ve learned in society, that how we might be feeling is something to be ashamed of, and we are better off alone.

4. We frame mental health as purely personal.

   Anxiety, depression, burnout - these aren’t always just about your childhood or inner world. Sometimes they’re logical responses to racism, financial insecurity, displacement, or workplace microaggressions. Conversations are remedies when the causes to our stress are related to external contexts like these.

   
   

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   So yeah. I’ve learned that loneliness isn’t just an emotional state - it’s a political one.

   It’s a reflection of a society that disconnects us from ourselves and each other.

   But here’s the good news:

   The moment you start speaking your truth, you make room for others to do the same.

   And suddenly, you’re not so alone anymore. <3