I need to tell you something I’ve been sitting with for a while now.
Lately, I’ve been finding myself in this pattern where I’m scrolling through my phone or mindlessly turning on the TV… even though I don’t actually want to watch anything. I’m just kind of… there. Existing. And the whole time, there’s this voice in my head saying: You could call a friend. You could go for a walk. You could show up at that coffee shop you like.
But I don’t.
And for the longest time, I convinced myself this was just laziness. Like, I’m a grown woman who literally teaches people about friendship and connection for a living, and I can’t even get myself off the couch to be social? What’s wrong with me?
Turns out? Nothing’s wrong with me. And nothing’s wrong with you either if you’ve been feeling this way.
We’re not lazy. We’re experiencing something called learned loneliness.
What the Hell is Learned Loneliness?
Here’s the thing about learned loneliness that made my ears perk up when I first heard the term: It’s this idea that our new normal has become feeling lonely. We’ve adjusted our comfort level so that when our social tank is on E, that feels… normal.
And I wouldn’t say loneliness is comfortable. Trust me, my own experience of loneliness is quite uncomfortable. That’s the whole point of loneliness. But we’ve gotten comfortable being uncomfortable. We’ve just… adjusted to this.
Think about it like hunger. We all know eating is good for us, right? But what if, collectively, we just started ignoring our hunger pangs? Like our stomachs are grumbling, and we’re just sitting there thinking, “Eh, cooking dinner seems like a lot of work.”
That’s what we’re doing with loneliness. Our bodies are sending us signals, you need connection, you need people, and we’re just… scrolling instead.
The Three Types of Loneliness You Might Be Ignoring
Here’s what really blew my mind: There are actually three dimensions of loneliness. And this is important because you might be doing totally fine in one or two areas, but you’re so low in a third that it’s really impacting you.
Intimate loneliness: This is about close confidants or intimate partners feeling like we lack people to share deep, mutual bonds of trust with.
Relational loneliness: This is that yearning for quality friendships, companionship, and overall support. The people you actually want to call when something happens.
Collective loneliness: This one hits different. It’s that longing for people who share your sense of purpose or interests. It’s wanting spaces that aren’t your home where you think, I feel comfortable here. That sense of belonging, of community, of those simple interactions with people around you.
When I really sat with these three dimensions, I realized something: I’m not struggling with intimate or relational loneliness. I have Michael and close friends I can call. But that collective loneliness? That’s my problem.
I work from home. I’m a solopreneur. My recurring activities, the ones that used to get me out into the world regularly, they’ve all fallen off my calendar over the past few years. And I haven’t replaced them.
So even though I have people I love, I’m spending an incredible amount of time alone. And I’ve just… learned to live with it.
The Stats That Prove We’re All in This Together
Okay, I need you to sit down for these numbers. Actually, you’re probably already sitting. Maybe lying on your couch scrolling? No judgment, I see you.
A 2022 study by the Pew Research Institute found that 35% of people feel that socializing is less important than it was before the pandemic.
Let that sink in. We KNOW connection is a basic human need. Studies literally show that socialization can impact your life expectancy by up to 15 years. But over a third of us are saying, “Eh, it’s not that important.”
And here’s the one that really got me: Over the last decade, the number of face-to-face socializing hours with close friends has been cut in half.
In 2014, people spent an average of 6.5 hours a week with close friends. In 2024? Most people average 2 hours and 45 minutes a week.
Men are down 30% in face-to-face socializing. Unmarried individuals are down 35%. Teenagers? Down 45%.
Never in history have we spent more time alone.
My Personal Reckoning with Learned Loneliness
So here’s what my learned loneliness looks like in practice:
I work from home, which means I can go days without leaving my house if I’m not intentional about it. And because so many of my recurring activities have disappeared (you know, those automatic social things that used to just be on my calendar), every single time I want to see people now, I have to actively initiate something.
And you know what? That feels exhausting.
So instead, I find myself in these moments where I’m like, “I should make plans… but also, the couch is right here. And Netflix is already open. And it’s kind of cold outside…”
Before I know it, I’m three episodes deep into a show I don’t even really like, and I’m mad at myself for not being more proactive.
I kept calling this laziness. But it’s not laziness. It’s that I’ve gotten so used to being uncomfortable and lonely that I’d rather just repeat that pattern, even though I’m unhappy, than put my energy into developing new ones.
In the full episode, I talk a lot more about my specific situation and the patterns I’ve fallen into, including some pretty vulnerable stuff about how I’ve been waiting for other people to make plans instead of being the brave friend myself. If you’re curious about what breaking these patterns actually looks like in real time, the whole conversation might really resonate with you.
What Got Us Here (And Why It Matters)
Look, I could just tell you what to do about learned loneliness. But I think it’s important to talk about what we’re up against. Because there are real societal factors that have gotten us into this mess, recognizing them helps us understand why change feels so hard.
The decline of community organizations: Yes, church attendance has declined. But so has participation in clubs, volunteer organizations, community groups, and third places. All those recurring gatherings we used to have? Gone.
Work from home: I’m not anti-work-from-home, but we need to acknowledge that we lost a built-in social aspect. Those water cooler conversations, the coworkers who became friends, even the meetings we hated… There was a social element there.
Families trapped at home: This one’s real. So many parents, especially moms, talk about feeling like society isn’t friendly to kids anymore. Kids are supposed to be quiet, well-behaved model citizens instead of… kids. So families end up siloed at home, existing in their own little bubbles behind closed doors.
Suburbanization: When’s the last time you saw people hanging out in their front yards? We’ve all moved to backyards with privacy fences. We’re socializing only with our closest people in private spaces, which means we’re missing out on those random neighbor conversations.
Lack of social trust: We no longer trust strangers or acquaintances. We want to be in spaces that feel comfortable and safe with only our closest people. But those “weak tie” relationships, the cashier you chat with, the person at your bus stop, those matter more than we think.
The deprioritization of weak ties: All those messages saying you just need a few close people? They’re missing something. Studies show we’re happier and healthier when we interact with our weak ties, with strangers, with acquaintances. Those little interactions add up.
Social media: Yeah, everyone talks about this one. We spend hours watching people socialize through our screens, wishing we could do that… when we literally could.
But here’s my hot take: TV is actually the bigger problem.
Social media can be social. You can DM someone, message a friend, or use what you see as a cue to reach out. I’ve made tons of real friendships through social media with people I’ve never met but talk to all the time.
But TV? When you hit that power button, you zone out. There’s no opportunity for interaction. We’ve gotten so used to just consuming input that we don’t even react anymore; we don’t laugh, we don’t smile, we just stare. And then we take that dulled response out into the world with us.
What We Can Actually Do About This
Okay, enough doom and gloom. Let’s talk about what we can do. Because here’s the truth: Making a change is work. We have to commit some of our time, energy, and attention to this.
But not feeling this way anymore? It’s worth it.
1. Acknowledge the work required
I need to sit down with myself. Similar to how I finally committed to doing my PT exercises for my neck problems and said, “I don’t want to feel this way anymore. I need to put energy into changing my patterns until they feel normal.”
It’s going to have to be pretty mindful at first. I’m going to have to do the work upfront. But eventually, it’ll become more passive.
2. Take stock of your unique situation
We all have different responsibilities, seasons of life, and living situations. Maybe you already have a strong sense of community. Maybe you don’t watch TV. Maybe you work in an office but struggle with intimate loneliness.
Take stock of YOUR barriers. For me, it’s working from home and the ease of just… staying in my house. Maybe for you, it’s something totally different.
3. Stop with the all-or-nothing thinking
We need to stop waiting for the perfect time, the perfect friends, the perfect group.
As adults, one of the biggest barriers to friendship is the idea that we’re looking for people who look exactly like us… the way it was when we were younger, when everyone went to the same school, played the same sports, and lived in the same neighborhood.
But you know what? Some of my best social situations are with unlikely people. The friends that make others say, “Wait, YOU’RE friends?” Because there’s some super niche part of me that this person gets, and that’s what makes the friendship delightful.
4. Appreciate the beauty in simple relationships
I have this random rule for myself: Every time I go to my most common grocery store, I have two or three checkers I’ve deemed my “go-tos.” I always go in their line. Always.
And you know what’s happened? They’re starting to recognize me. This older lady and I were hitting it off yesterday. She told me she’s going back to grad school in her 60s, and I told her about a Netflix show she should watch. We have a little rapport now.
She’s not one of my closest, dearest friends. But I do walk into the grocery store and look to see if she’s there. And that matters. That’s connection.
5. Notice when you’re filling the void
When are you numbing out? When are you turning on the TV on autopilot? When are you scrolling even though you don’t actually want to?
Notice the places where you’re filling the void. Where you’re wishing you were going out into the world or socializing, but then you convince yourself out of it.
We can’t break a pattern if we don’t see the pattern.
6. Stop waiting for other people
Oh boy, do I have feelings about this one.
Michael, my husband, is super proactive when it comes to socializing. He makes so many plans for us. And I’ve realized… I’ve been terrible at initiating one-on-one plans. I’ve been waiting for other people to invite me to things.
I need to be the brave friend. And it’s not that I’m never the brave friend, but I need to figure out some sort of regular, recurring cadence. I’ve been using excuses like “I’ve been working a lot” or “I have these headaches…”
But if I really look at how much time I spend staring at the TV? There’s no reason I couldn’t be filling that time with something that makes me happier.
7. Get off the screens
Turn off your TV. Just… turn it off.
And either get off social media or make a rule for yourself: if you’re going to be on social, you actually have to socialize. Comment. DM. Reach out. Use what you see as cues to send a text or voice memo.
This is something I’m really trying to do, and I’m going to be sharing more about this journey in my newsletter. If you want to follow along with what I’m learning, head to alexalexander.com/newsletter and sign up.
My Three Immediate Commitments (And Maybe Yours Too?)
Okay, I’ve given you a bunch of ideas. But let me tell you the three things I’m personally committing to right now:
Commitment #1: Go out in the world more
I’m committing to continuing to say hi to my cashier friend. Leaving my house first thing to walk a few blocks every day, or working in a coffee shop, or checking out third places in my neighborhood.
No more just staying in my house all day. I need to be around people, even if it’s just simple interactions.
Commitment #2: Set up two recurring social things
I haven’t decided exactly what these will be yet, but here are my options:
- ▪️ Joining a group, club, or class (I already have my Toastmasters group, but maybe I add something else)
- ▪️ Getting a group of friends together for a regular cadence: like a monthly brunch
- ▪️ Setting up a weekly phone call or walk-and-talk with a friend
The cadence doesn’t matter. It could be two once-a-month things. But I’m adding two more recurring social activities to my calendar.
Because here’s the thing: It’s a lot easier to do the work to get these on your calendar ONE TIME and then just show up consistently than it is to continue initiating every single time.
Commitment #3: Talk to my friends about this
I’m talking about it here on the podcast. I’m going to talk with my people about learned loneliness.
Because part of breaking this pattern is getting our friends to get out of their learned loneliness patterns as well. To show up at the gatherings. To say yes to the invites.
And if they’re experiencing this too, if they’re at home on their couch feeling like it’s too much effort to get up, we need them to understand why it’s worth it to push through that discomfort.
The full episode goes much deeper into each of these commitments, and I share more about the specific barriers I’m working through and how I’m thinking about accountability. If you’re feeling fired up about making some changes but want more context on what this actually looks like in practice, definitely give it a listen.
Here’s What I Need You to Know
If you feel like you’re experiencing learned loneliness, you’re not alone.
I’m a friendship coach who literally does this work professionally, and I’m sitting here telling you I’ve fallen into this pattern too.
But here’s the beautiful thing: If a few of us lean in and decide to make a change, we can start to cause a ripple effect. We can reverse some of these statistics, one person at a time.
So I want you to think about it: Which dimension of loneliness are you struggling with? What are YOUR three commitments going to be?
And if you want some accountability, reach out to me. Send me a DM, a voice memo, or an email. Tell me what you’re experiencing. Tell me the three actions you’re committing to, and keep them small. We can check in on each other.
Because connection isn’t just nice to have. Connection is survival.
And we all deserve to feel a little less lonely.
Ready to dive deeper into learned loneliness and hear the full conversation about breaking these patterns? Listen to the complete episode of Friendship IRL wherever you get your podcasts, and subscribe so you don’t miss future conversations about building the friendships and community you actually want.
What’s one small step you’re going to take this week to break your learned loneliness pattern? I’d love to hear about it! Find me on Instagram @itsalexalexander or head to alexalex.chat to send me a voice message.
