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“I never expected to end up alone.”
This phrase appears on many social media posts. Often the writer describes family who have drifted away—through distance, estrangement, or death. They write about rattling around an empty house, with no one to talk to.
In contrast, like hundreds of thousands—maybe millions—of people, I’ve been single my entire life, and I want to keep it that way.
Single people don’t see themselves rattling around empty houses. Many of us look for reasons to stay home alone, even on holidays, to work on projects we care about. Others fill their lives with chosen connections: art classes, community theatre, coworking spaces, activism, gyms, dinners out—sometimes with others, sometimes alone.
I’m not dismissing loneliness. I’m suggesting we may be thinking about being alone too narrowly.
So what can people who feel lonely learn from those of us who are single by choice?
There’s nothing inherently wrong with being alone
Many of these social media posts suggest the owner feels like a failure. “Being alone” means “You did something wrong.”
But families change. People die. Friends get busy, or move in new directions. This is normal life.
The British psychiatrist Anthony Storr once suggested there may even be an evolutionary benefit to narrowing your circle: fewer people to grieve us when we die. His broader point was that solitude can be psychologically healthy. While Freud emphasized “love and work,” modern culture overemphasizes “love.”
Some of us actively seek solitude. Not because we’re avoiding people—but because we genuinely enjoy our own company. For some, that comfort develops over time; for others, it’s been there ever since we can remember.
Loneliness becomes a story we learn to tell
Of course, loss deserves to be mourned. But many people begin to label themselves as lonely—as if something essential has been taken from them.
Psychologist Ellen Langer’s research on mindfulness suggests that the way we label our experiences can shape not only how we feel, but even our physical responses. When people believe they’ve slept longer they feel less tired. When hotel maids reframed their labor as exercise, their fitnes levels improved.
I’d like to apply this thinking to loneliness.
It’s easy to absorb sweeping claims—like the idea that loneliness is as harmful as smoking fifteen cigarettes a day—without asking why. We’re taught that certain forms of “social connection” are mandatory.
We’re not taught that solitude can be a valid, healthy state.
Some people need quiet and independence as much as others need noise and constant interaction. Many people who live alone don’t even think of themselves as “alone” until someone else points it out. (“You spent Christmas alone?” “Oh yes, I guess I was.”)
Independence is a skill that can be learned
One reason being alone gets such a bad rap is that many people lack confidence in handling life on their own.
Managing money. Dealing with household chores. Making decisions. Dealing with a mouse at 3 AM. Showing up alone at social events. Moving to a new place. Overwhelming — especially if a partner once handled those responsibilities.
Single-by-choice people often have years—sometimes decades—of experience learning how to deal with everything.
Over time, life becomes less scary and more manageable. You learn shortcuts. You lower your standards for chores like cleaning. You hire help when needed. You build systems.
Most importantly, you begin to trust yourself. You don’t look for a shoulder to lean on. You have your own.
Financial and geographic freedom matter more than we admit
Money can’t buy love or friendship. But it can buy options: help from professionals, safer environments, more autonomy in how you live, and even occasional splurges.
Yet many people don’t think about financial independence as a buffer against loneliness. They prioritize fulfillment in the short term without considering long-term consequences. Others defer financial decisions to a spouse and are left vulnerable if they’re suddenly alone.
This isn’t about judgment, prioritizing money or praising greed. It’s about being realistic.
And where you live can make the ultimate difference.
Sometimes loneliness isn’t about who you are—it’s about where you are. Your environment can make connection easy or impossible.
I’ve lived in places where I struggled to connect, even for a simple “let’s meet for coffee.” When I moved here, I had more friendly connections in six months than I’d had in six years previously. There I was weird; here I was actually called “cool.”
Sometimes the grass really is greener.
There is another way to think about being alone
Those who are “single at heart,” as Bella DePaulo calls us, don’t see our lives as deficient or lacking. We’re embracing a lifestyle and a life.
The numbers support us. One of three households in Philadelphia is occupied by one person; the numbers are even higher elsewhere. Marriage and romance no longer define a life of fulfillment.
Sometimes I think the larger society is a little afraid of us as we gain in power.
Because what happens if more people opt out of the marriage model? If they ignore Valentine’s Day, embrace solo holidays, and build lives around autonomy rather than coupledom?
What if being alone isn’t a problem to solve but a way to live?
The irony
People who feel needy or helpless often struggle to build friendships. Desperation can push others away.
In contrast, when you enjoy your own company, people want to be around you. You find yourself in a life filled with people…and you have to be firm in carving out your much-needed “alone time.” Which you would never, ever define as loneliness.
