Lessons Learned from Solitude and Loneliness

Most of the time, I’ve always enjoyed being alone. I think it’s because from an early age, I often played alone. I made friends in preschool, so I had many playdates and developed more friendships over the years throughout school and such. But still, I’m an only child, so there were many times I was left to my own devices to entertain myself.

The feeling of loneliness didn’t really come until my teenage years, when I started realizing that so much solitude had made me disconnected from others. In high school, I had a hard time making friends because I was just so used to being alone, and I struggled to approach people. Eventually, I did find a close group, but it made me realize that even when I’m in the presence of others, I still feel utterly alone. I still feel this way to this day.

The thing is, I make myself hidden, unavailable, and distant. I think loneliness has always cradled me in some way. And now, I know that too much solitude can be harmful when it starts to interfere with developing friendships or relationships. I love being alone — just not actually being alone. I like having others around, even if we’re not constantly interacting.

Here are some of the lessons solitude has taught me:

Being alone can feel safe, especially when vulnerability feels risky
Solitude can be comforting without actually being healing
Feeling lonely doesn’t always mean being physically alone
Too much independence can make it harder to ask for connection
Hiding can protect you from pain, but it can also keep you invisible
Wanting solitude doesn’t mean you don’t want relationships
Balance matters — alone time is healthy, isolation is not

I’m learning that solitude doesn’t have to be something I retreat into out of fear. It can be a place to rest, to reflect, and to recharge, not a permanent state of disconnection. I want to be alone without disappearing. I want presence without pressure, connection without expectation, and relationships that feel safe enough to step into.

This is still something that I’m learning how to navigate. I don’t want to abandon solitude, because it has shaped me and protected me in many ways. But I also don’t want to stay hidden inside it forever. My goal isn’t to change who I am, but to ease the distance I place between myself and others. To let solitude be a place I return from. Not a place I stay stuck in.

Where in your life are you choosing solitude — and where might you be choosing invisibility instead?