What If Feeling Lonely Doesn’t Mean Something Is Wrong With You?
There’s a kind of loneliness that doesn’t look like the movies. It doesn’t always involve being physically alone, or eating dinner for one, or scrolling on your phone wishing someone would text you.
Sometimes it shows up while you’re sitting at a dinner with new acquaintances, smiling and nodding, wondering why you still feel unseen.
Or it appears on your birthday, when the messages are fewer than expected, or the people who matter most go strangely silent.
Sometimes, loneliness comes in the form of a quiet mantra, looping in the background: “No one’s really coming to get me. It’s just me.”
If that resonates, I want to say something that might be hard to believe:
Loneliness doesn’t mean you’ve failed.
It doesn’t mean you’re broken.
It means you’re human.
And somewhere inside, you still long for connection.
When the Past Lingers in the Present
So often, the people I work with are bright, sensitive, thoughtful—and lonely. They’ve spent years building a life that looks functional on the outside, while quietly carrying around an ache they’ve learned to live with.
Many grew up in families where emotions weren’t met with curiosity, but with silence, dismissal, or overwhelm. Some were the “easy” kid—uncomplaining, self-reliant, invisible. Others were caretakers early on, praised for how little they needed.
Over time, these adaptive roles solidify. You get good at staying small. You read the room before you speak. You assume too much attention is dangerous or will lead to disappointment. You begin to believe that loneliness is just the cost of staying safe.
The Vulnerability of Being Seen
There’s a paradox that comes up in therapy again and again: we long to be seen—but being seen feels terrifying.
This makes sense. If you didn’t grow up being reflected with warmth and care, then attention might feel like a spotlight you never asked for. A trap. Or a test you’re certain to fail.
You might notice that when others really tune in to you, something inside panics: “I’m too much.”
Or: “What if they don’t like what they see?”
That panic isn’t weakness—it’s intelligence. A protective part trying to shield you from the pain of not being received.
And yet, healing asks us to do something brave: to try again.
To let ourselves risk being known, little by little.
You Don’t Have to Fix Yourself to Be Loved
One of the most painful myths we carry is that we need to be more social, more confident, more emotionally fluent—or just less—in order to earn belonging.
But I don’t believe that.
The work of therapy is not about perfecting yourself to deserve connection.
It’s about exploring who you are beneath the layers of self-protection.
It’s about learning to relate to your own complexity with kindness, rather than judgment.
It’s about understanding that your loneliness isn’t proof of your unworthiness—it’s a sign that you were made for relationship.
A Different Kind of Support
In our work together, I won’t offer quick fixes or surface-level strategies. I don’t believe in bypassing the hard stuff.
Instead, I’ll help you make room for your story. I’ll support you in reconnecting with parts of yourself that have gone underground. Together, we’ll work slowly, honestly, and with care—at your pace.
I know that to be human is a complex experience. I will meet you there—with tenderness and respect for the whole of who you are.
If you’re tired of carrying loneliness alone, and ready to feel more seen and connected, I’d be honored to walk with you.
Connect here to begin your journey
