it's ok to be lonely

Loneliness is something that I’ve spent a lot of time with. I’ve had my own bouts of loneliness during a variety of periods of my life, including extreme loneliness that led me into short-term depressions. But I’ve also studied loneliness and its role in our biology, evolution, and society. I spent several months doing a deep dive into writings and research on loneliness for a creative project, which left me with an enormous amount of empathy for anyone who experiences it. It turns out that’s a huge portion of the population.

It’s ok to be lonely

That empathy for lonely people, here, is extending to myself. I have a very rich social life, I have a supportive family, and I have a creative life that keeps me surrounded by people who I connect very deeply with. But that doesn’t mean that I don’t still feel the yearning for physical touch, for flirty connection, for the specificity of love that I know I’m capable of experiencing with a romantic partner. This song is about loneliness, yes, and it’s an encouragement that – with everything I’ve learned about loneliness – it makes sense that being single makes me feel lonely. That, at least, I’m not alone in feeling that.

Broken hearted; on empty
Someone to care about you

It can be confusing to feel lonely when you are surrounded by people, but a broken heart can do that to you – can make you feel like you’re running on empty. Can make you feel an enormous sense of lack – like something should be next to you but isn’t. With this song, I’m saying: This is a normal, completely expected feeling. You’re allowed to sit here with this feeling. You don’t have to replace a partner with your friends or your family or time alone – you can mourn. You’re allowed to feel lonely just for this specific type of connection.

Vivek Murthy, in his excellent book Together, talks about three kinds of loneliness. These are: relational (quality friendships and social companionship), collective (a shared sense of purpose and interests), and intimate (a mutual bond of affection and trust; a close confidante) loneliness. All three impact us, which helps explain why someone can be in a loving marriage and still feel lonely. Or why I can be loved by friends, family, and bandmates, yet still feel the existential dread of waking up in bed alone.

Someone to brush the hair out of your face

At one point in my dating roller coaster, I had been trying so hard to make a comprehensive list of the things that I wanted in a partner. To make “buckets” that I wanted to be filled, to make dealbreakers, to write must-haves and nice-to-haves. And one day, I realized that in order to encourage hope, I needed to write down some moments. The moments that I can’t wait to share with someone. And from those moments, come the values that the person should have. The sensation of someone brushing the hair out of your face is so caring – I see that something is slightly unsettled with you, and I want to make it right.

To want someone to surprise you
Sneak a smile across the room

“It’s that thing when you’re with someone, and you love them and they know it, and they love you and you know it... but it’s a party... and you’re both talking to other people, and you’re laughing and shining... and you look across the room and catch each other’s eyes... but – but not because you’re possessive, or it’s precisely sexual... but because... that is your person in this life… That’s what I want out of a relationship. Or just life, I guess.” – Frances Ha

I love this picture of two people in love, existing as their full selves separately from each other in space. But that their energies are so intertwined that they can’t help but sneak a glance at their person. And their glance means “I see you, but I don’t need you – I only need you to be you.”

Someone whose eyes do something for you

There are certain eyes I’ve gazed into during the years I’ve lived that just mean something else. It’s some kind of magic, chemistry, energetic connection, prolonged eye contact… whatever causes it, it’s something I definitely know when it’s not there. And I know periods in my life when it’s not around are when I feel romantically lonely – even if I have someone I’m spending time with. Where just one little look, one fleeting glance, can cause butterflies. Or a prolonged gaze is an entire conversation.

We crave love; we need it
You’re a human not self-sufficient
It’s the beauty of the world that we do it together

Loneliness is an appropriate biological response. We’re a naturally social and collaborative species – evolutionarily thriving and becoming the fittest in groups rather than as individuals. Loneliness is a good thing – it makes us seek others. The late John Cacioppo, one of the foremost researchers on loneliness, likened it to hunger or thirst – a biological warning signal to satisfy our need for social relationships. For protection and security. For sharing information and ideas. For the strength in numbers to help our ancestors overpower both predators and prey. And that biological need for connection is what helps make the world so beautiful for us modern humans: We get to share our experiences with the people who matter.