Alone is not the same as lonely
June 19, 2026
Photograph by cottonbro studio at Pexels
Sophie Winch unpacks the stigma of loneliness and why learning to enjoy solitude might be the answer
In 2023, I was the loneliest I’d ever felt. I sat in my college bedroom the day before university started. I looked at the cards my parents had posted to me, and heard the chatter of voices outside my room and I realised that I was in a city where I knew nearly nobody, and nearly nobody knew me. I didn’t feel like I even really knew myself any more – no longer a schoolchild, but something foreign and different. I’m far from the only person who’s experienced this; a YouGov survey of more than 1,000 students found that 92% of us have, at some point, felt lonely at university. Despite this, loneliness is so taboo that nearly half of us think we’d be judged for admitting to it. That is a statistic equivalent to worrying you’d be judged if you admitted to having a full set of ribs. It is absolutely nonsensical.
Why, then, do we pretend we are perpetually surrounded by people? Why is the idea of being alone so mortifying? I asked these questions to psychologist Dr Barley Birney. “Belonging in a social group”, she tells me, “is a biological imperative”. Loneliness in young people is especially pernicious because it comes unexpectedly, in any new situation. My visions of the start of university had not involved sitting alone in my room. Young people expect to be constantly social, which makes it even more uncomfortable when we’re not. I think this fiction of constant company is worsened, too, by social media preying on loneliness.
We’re presented with people constantly surrounded by people, making us think that this is normal. I cannot stress enough – this is not normal. This is what ants do; we are not ants. Do not glamorise the lifestyle of the fictional ant-people. While we are not chimps either, we are more like chimps; chimps prefer smaller social groupings and value solitude. This, much like feeling lonely in Freshers and having 24 ribs, is very normal.
Technology can be used performatively to learn aloneness
To me, technology is a double-edged sword. While WhatsApp enables human connections, platforms like YouTube have been linked in research by King’s College London and were found to be more harmful, and responsible for increasing loneliness. Influencers foster parasocialism and make people feel less of a need for human connection. But I can understand why people go in for it. Being lonely is not just miserable; it’s also dangerous. According to the 2023 US Surgeon General’s Advisory, it has the equivalent effect on your lifespan as smoking fifteen cigarettes a day. No wonder, then, that people turn to the fictional ant-people, or AI chatbots, for company.
Technology can be used performatively to learn aloneness, though. Take photos of ‘solo dates’, for example: influencers alone in coffee shops, latte raised to the camera, backed by Miley Cyrus’ Flowers. This, Dr Birney believes, is not inherently a bad thing. She cites the ‘four stages of competence’ model. Performative aloneness is ‘consciously competent’; with practice, reliance on an audience might fade and it’s possible to become ‘unconsciously competent’ at being alone. This is a hard gap to bridge; I don’t pretend to have a solution to loneliness, because there isn’t a simple one. Comfort in being alone, though, can go a long way to making it less miserable. Voluntary solitude lowers stress.
I’m going back to university after a two-year break for my final year. There will be a moment when I’m sitting in my college bedroom the day before university starts. I will be totally alone. I won’t know anyone in the city, and nobody will know me. This time, though, it’ll feel different. Since 2023, I’ve realised something – I’ve learnt how to be alone. My feelings on this can be concisely summarised by a Hozier lyric (minus some ‘shalalas’) – ‘you know I’m good on my own; it’s just the being unknown’. As long as there is one person in a room who properly knows me, I’m not lonely. I know myself now. I’m practiced at sitting in coffee-shops with myself and a notebook, or crocheting on park benches, or watching plays alone. I am nearing unconscious competence. I’m not pretending I won’t miss people, and I will certainly be alone, but that’s not the same as feeling lonely.
If you or someone you know is struggling with loneliness, check out these helplines for support
