Photo by Kruthivarsh Koduru on Unsplash.

Sometimes I feel like I’m drowning in relationship advice. Loneliness can be deadly. We need social contact to age better. We can’t survive without friends.

Alone too much? There’s a term for you: hyperindependence. People with this trait risk burnout and exhaustion. They become part of the loneliness epidemic. Some say they lack social skills.

But what if you’re terrified of hyperindependence? You bought the package about how being alone is unhealthy and scary.

 I would say you never learned solitude skills. 

Learning to appreciate solitude

Years ago, British psychiatrist Anthony Storr wrote a book called Solitude, which is mostly still relevant after all these years. He argued that Freud talked about “life and work.” But we tend to give attention to people who want to focus on relationships and ignore people who’d prefer “work.”

And let’s face it: sooner or later, even the most sociable people will find themselves alone. Can they handle it?  That’s where solitude skills come in.

The ability to enjoy one’s own company. How to entertain yourself if you find yourself alone at home, in a waiting room, on some form of transportation. Can you absorb yourself in reading? Or if you forgot to bring a book, will you be able to explore your own mind?

Can you handle Christmas without family and Valentine’s Day without a partner?

Or (this one may be hard to face) suppose you’ve lived with a partner for twenty, thirty, or fifty years…and something happens so you’re now alone. It could be death, disability, or desertion. Can you face your new solitude in a healthful way?

These problems may seem unlikely, far-fetched or far off into the future. But they can happen unexpectedly. And without the skills of enjoying your own company, you can find yourself sinking into a swamp of despair and loneliness.

When you lack solitude skills…

I’ve been watching stories of romance scams, especially on the channel Catfished. Scammers pretend to be stranded in the military, needing to pay for leave or promotion. They claim they lost gold bars in transit or got stuck on an oil rig with no access to their money.

Even smart people fall for these schemes, especially when they’re facing a sudden loss of a partner. A woman says she lost well over $100K, which means she was smart enough to earn large sums in the first place. But she’d just had a bad breakup and felt alone during holidays in a coupled world. So she was open to advances from a stranger. And now her bank account is gone.
Even less drastic consequences can be harmful. I’ve met people who have stayed with a partner who’s abusive, controlling, or just plain annoying and unreasonable…because they can’t bear to think of the alternative.  

Or you can find yourself feeling lost and depressed when plans get cancelled, a friend disappears, or the grandchildren have become too busy to see you.

So what’s your life like after you develop solitude skills?

Coming home to an empty space and not turning on the television for background noise.
Going to theatre or movies alone because you want to see the show.Enjoying holidays alone when they come your way by choice or by chance
Saying “OK I’ll do my own thing” if someone cancels plans or gets stranded elsewhere
Surviving a difficult experience when nobody’s available to help

And most importantly, not responding to social pressure to “find someone.” Even mainline mental health professionals warn that a consequence of being “too independent” is “having trouble finding a relationship…” which for some people is not a problem at all, since they never wanted one in the first place.

I would argue that people need to develop these skills of solitude even if – perhaps especially if – they’re happy in a long-term relationship. 

Sooner or later, they will find themselves alone, temporarily or permanently. Those who haven’t developed solitude skills will experience a deeper loneliness and an intense longing that can lead to a series of harmful behavio

 Seems a high price to pay for refusing to learn the skills of a healthy form of solitude.

The post We Teach Relationship Skills. Why Don’t We Teach Solitude Skills? appeared first on .

From Depositphotos.

When someone says they’re single, you are only getting the tip of the iceberg of what they mean. They could be what Bella DePaulo calls “single at heart:” people who love being single and are not looking to get coupled.

 “Single at heart” people might have been single their entire lives. They might have known they’d be single since the time they were six. They want to be single.

Or they may have been previously married or divorced. They like their newly-single status and are moving to being “single at heart.”   

But they often are “reluctant singles,” who would rather be coupled and perhaps are actively looking. They do not want to remain single and very much wish they were coupled.

To be sure, all people who are single in the legal sense of “not married” face certain challenges in common, e,g., government tax classifications. 

The issue isn’t that someone is coupled or not: it’s that some are grieving an old relationship and/or want to stay coupled. Others are enjoying being single. For others, being single is a deliberate choice, or a choice that feels inevitable: “I was born this way.”

This distinction matters.

When you lump the “at heart” and “reluctant” singles together, you get a distorted view of what it means to be single. And this distortion has implications for everything from policy decisions to health care interventions to commercial services. Here are three areas where the distortion can be especially misleading.

Loneliness vs. Solitude 

In an article about “solo agers,” the AARP defines “solo” as “living alone.” The truth is, some married people technically live alone, maintaining separate residences. Some single people live with roommates or extended family. 

The AARP goes on to say, “Two in 5 solo agers [in their survey] said loneliness and isolation were the worst parts of aging alone.”

They are referring to 40% of a population consisting of people who live alone by choice as well as people who are divorced or widowed. 

But is it true that 40% of single people across the board, happily single or missing a partner, are lonely? We can hypothesize that people who are single at heart – especially those living alone – would be grateful for solitude rather than lonely. In fact Bella DePaulo’s small survey of single people found that nearly all wanted periods of “alone time” every day. 

Efforts to find partners vs. Efforts to remain solo

The AARP also found that some people who lived alone had tried dating apps and other approaches to finding romance. It seems safe to say that none of these were in the “single at heart” segment: by definition, being “single at heart” means enjoying life as a single person, not chasing romantic interests. 

People who are “reluctantly single” will go to great lengths to find partners.  They invest thousands of hours in developing a profile, dating, and figuring out how to make a relationship “work.”

Yet we rarely hear about those who are wholeheartedly devoted to living a single life, making enormous efforts to create islands of solitude, sacrificing disposable income, and resisting intrusive attempts to make them change. Narratives about single life

There’s also a difference in the way these groups talk about singlehood. Those who want to replace their lost partners will talk about “coping” with their single status or “coming to terms” with not having a partner. 

This language assumes coupledom is a superior state desired by everyone. It often comes as a shock when the speakers realize that not everyone sees this state as superior or desirable. 

Imperfect but Necessary Distinctions

This division into “reluctantly single” vs “single at heart” may seem simplistic, arbitrary, and binary. After all, some scientific articles say sexual orientation is a continuum, not binary;  I haven’t seen the same kind of approach directed to singlehood.
But as a bare minimum, it seems critical to avoid lumping “single at heart” with “single by circumstances” into one group. 

Misleading data can lead to harmful or senseless prescriptions, e.g., prescribing solutions for “loneliness” or “susceptibility to romance scams” when the probability is zero percent in one group of singles and 100 percent in another.

In fact, it’s difficult to overstate the dangers of assuming the word “single” covers anyone who isn’t married or at least coupled. Even if the categories are perfect, we can correct many distortions if we don’t stop with one word. We can go on to ask the question, “But do they wish they had a partner? Or are they enjoying a rich, fulfilling life as a solo?”  ,

If you liked this article, please don’t forget to clap if you’re a member. That helps me with Medium.
Please note: This article follows my earlier article: One word, three identities
And if you wonder why I use cat pictures on my articles, click here. 

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You meet someone who explains their marital status: “I’m single.”  You think you get it … but what does that word actually mean?

On a superficial level, you know they currently are not married in a relationship. Some scientists try to say that unmarried people who are in a relationship are still single; they want that piece of paper. But what about people who are *not* in a relationship?

Scholars have defined single in at least two ways: as a temporary status and as a chosen identity. Confusing these definitions distorts both research and lived experience

Some researchers argue that being single is a temporary status because a single person *could* get married and probably will. That definition seems based on the belief that marriage is “normal.” Many single people do not see themselves on a path that will eventually end in coupledom. They see themselves as already arrived: they like the way they are and have no intention of changing.

And some have moved from “status” to “identity.”

Let’s illustrate with real examples of three people: two from articles published in the Chronicle of Higher Education and one from my own conversations.

Randi Lynn Taglen wrote about her experiences as a higher ed administrator who, from what I can tell, was reluctantly single for a period of fifteen years. She’s a higher ed administrator who began her adult life with a wish to be married and hold children in her arms. She went to college and grad school, obtained professorial positions, and along the way experienced a brutal break-up with her boyfriend,

Her article displays exceptional honesty. She talks about how she found herself single, dealing with prejudices encountered by all species of singles. When she arrived on a new campus, her new colleagues wanted to know her marital status immediately. Ironically, if she’d been divorce or widowed, I suspect people would be more understanding.

Randi adapted to her new life as a single academic. She flourished in her career and was eventually invited to enter administration. She ignored resentful comments from colleagues who attributed her success to her unmarried status. She acknowledges that being single gave her freedom to make certain moves that wouldn’t be possible in a marriage. She adopted a dog and found avenues of self-expression.

But she writes poignantly, “I came to campus every day carrying a form of complicated grief, a silent ache for the life that never came to be and the child I could feel in my arms but would never hold.” 

Eventually, she was surprised to find a partnerwhen she was somewhere in her forties. She seems truly happy to be coupled again.

As I read this article, Randi seems to represent the concepts of Bergstrom and Bree, who saw singlehood as a status: “Singlehood as a result of separation is rarely a long-term singlehood,” they say.

I couldn’t help contrasting her article with Craig Wynne, who wrote a response emphasizing the prejudices single people experience. Craig is an associate professor at a university in Washington, DC.  He has published research and inaugurated an undergraduate course in the field of singlehood studies.  He expressed dismay at the prejudices Randi encountered. He suggests that fostering a climate that welcomes singles will make life easier for the reluctantly or temporarily single.

It seems safe to say that Craig has no regrets about being single and childless. He’s not looking for a partner. For him, being single is an identity that comes with annoyances and obstacles, but not with a sense of lack.

Craig writes, “I became a solo homeowner a year and a half ago, shortly after earning tenure. Not all singles are happy to be, but after a day of teaching, department and committee meetings, hallway conversations, and the increased emotional labor that comes with helping students these days, I’m happy to come home and be greeted by the meows of my cat, Chester.”

That quote clearly suggests he doesn’t see singlehood as a temporary stop on a journey to marriage, but as a destination he sought voluntarily. In other writing, Craig suggests he sees himself as what Bella DePaulo calls “single at heart.” 

A cat instead of a kid? For someone who’s single at heart, that’s not settling; it’s choosing.

As a final example, I’ll refer to someone I’ll call Mary, who was divorced about 15 years ago. When I met her recently, for the first time, she said she’s enjoying her freedom. She has no interest in getting back to her old life or finding a new partner.  She doesn’t describe herself as “unmarried” but as “single.” She’s still doing some exploring about filling her life, but she wants to expand her identity, not change it.

I didn’t want to ask a lot of questions, but some things stood out. Unlike Lynn, Mary had been married and she has a status of “divorced.” In some circles, that carries less stigma than “never married.” This was brought home to me recently when a male acquaintance expressed surprise that I wasn’t divorced or widowed: “But you seem happy!” he said, bewildered. He couldn’t imagine how a single person could be happy.

Mary seems somewhere between Randi and Craig. Initially, she saw singlehood as a status, but she has quickly evolved to being “single at heart.” In transition, she’s explored ways to cope but soon realized she was doing more than coping: she was learning to enjoy aspects of her single life.

Will she go back to being coupled? It’s at least possible. But Mary is older. She has grown children who don’t live near her. She doesn’t have regrets. She doesn’t want to date. And she’s discovering the positive, non-deficit side of being single.

As singlehood becomes more widely accepted as an identity and a choice, I suspect people like Mary will avoid re-coupling; they’re now on a one-way trip and they intend to stay that way.

From this, we can conclude that “being single” has very different meanings, depending on the circumstances and values of the people involved.

Unfortunately, a lot of research – especially in most of the last century – has confounded these definitions of single, suggesting there’s one definition for all people who can be lumped together as “unmarried.” When asked ‘How happy are you with being single,” the lower ratings of those who are reluctantly “single as a status” could cancel out the high ratings of the voluntarily “single at heart.”

Fortunately, that is changing as we see new research emerging by scholars who don’t bring a “coupled is the norm” agenda.

A status can be temporary and may call for coping mechanisms; “coping” usually represents a response to an undesirable situation. An identity is something to be proud of — something that calls for expanding and, as many single-by-choice would say, a celebration.

In an ideal world, you would happily describe yourself as “single” and people around you would just nod and move on. More and more of us are taking pride in the word “single,” and we’re happy to claim that identity. As illustrated here, it’s by no means the same as “wishing you were half of a couple.”

One thing is clear. When someone says, “I’m single,” it could mean at least three things…and why are you asking them, anyway?

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AI-generated image from Kalsstockmedia.

A common question for advice columnists is, “My spouse refuses to see a doctor. When they get sick, am I supposed to take care of them?” This column from Carolyn Hax is a good example.  The wife worries that she’ll be active “in retirement” while her husband is sidelined and unable to join her.

I’ve heard live comments, too. A male coworker said (many years ago), “I told my wife I wouldn’t take her on vacation unless she went to the doctor for a checkup.”

Statements like these make me very, very happy to be single…aside from the fact that the speakers are not just being coercive: they are exaggerating the benefits of “preventive” health care. Of course this kind of pressure can appear in non-spousal contexts, but in the letters to the advice column you can almost hear the desperation.

And of course there’s a consideration: married people have to consider the impact of health decisions, as well as financial and child-bearing decisions, on their partner.

It’s different when you’re single.

As a single person, I used to get a lot of horror stories from friends.  I was one of those people who never went to doctors. I skipped mammograms, colonoscopies, and yearly blood tests. When asked why, I explained that I hated the medical profession and was skeptical of their advice.

Of course no one would suffer from my choices. My will included provisions for the pets.  I exercised, ate more or less sensibly, skipped the sugar soda, and didn’t let my mind rot on daytime television. I went decades without entering a doctor’s office. Those were my personal tradeoffs.

And now that I’m well beyond Medicare age, nobody bothers me. They can’t say I’ll die young if I skip the tests. Doctors bite down their surprise at my lack of test records. They know I’ll reject their well-meaning offers of tests and drugs. They nod resignedly when I say, “I don’t care about living to be 100. I want to die before I go into a nursing home.”

Ultimately, it’s all about tradeoffs. Specifically: 

(1) Data on so-called preventive care doesn’t send a clear message.

Screenings miss a lot of disease and give you a lot of false positives. Read books by Gilbert Welch and look for his videos. False positives can send you for more tests that increase your risk of life-threatening consequences that are worse than the original disease. Unless you have a history or symptoms, the benefits of screening can be murky.

One local hospital routinely sends out postcards with the message, “Mammograms save lives.” That’s true, but how many do they save? The National Cancer Institute estimates you’d have to screen 1300 women to save one life. You have to make your own tradeoff.

(2) Population-based evidence may not apply to you.

We all know people who were careless about their health and lived to be 90, while fastidious, fit vegetarians die painful deaths at fifty.

All you can do is move the needle–and often not very far. Eating a heart-healthy diet won’t necessarily save you from bad genes or a dust-filled environment. ? There are no guarantees. You could could do everything right and still wind up helpless as the victim of an accident, obscure hereditary illness, or just the wrong side of the statistics.

(3) It’s a deeply personal decision.

People differ in the amount of discomfort they experience at medical visits. Some population segments get treated worse; some places treat everyone like pieces of meat. Some treatments are more painful than others; both treatments and side effects can bother people differently.

People also differ dramatically in their beliefs about medical interventions. I once encountered a professional woman – a lawyer – in the dog park. She mentioned that mammograms were a yearly non-negotiable. I asked her if she knew the statistics.. She said, “I don’t care. I want my medical tests.” That’s her prerogative. It’s not a mandate for everyone.

Bottom line…

It’s legal for people to choose high-risk factors that could kill them, such as smoking and sugar sodas. It’s legal to refuse care, even if the consequences are serious. And most importantly, I believe it’s up to each of us to make this decision independently, from a place of information, even if we seem to be acting against our own best interests.

And every time I read one of those advice columns with the question, “How can I make my spouse see a doctor?” I am even more grateful for my life as a single person. I make my own tradeoffs.

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There’s an old folk song about how everything has a season, based on a Bible verse. And there’s an old square dance call that puts loneliness in perspective: “Birdie hop out and crow hop in.”

Sometimes I think our so-called loneliness epidemic comes from a failure to understand what that means.

The Linear Life

We’ve been taught to think of life as linear. You grow up with one set of parents. You go straight from high school to college to grad school. You choose one career that defines you. You live in one geographic area with one family of your own.

That may have been common at one time—maybe even in the 1950s.

But today it’s birdie hop out and crow hop in.

Most elements of life are cyclical.

You enjoy a successful career until something shifts. You change—you feel restless, bored, or pressured. Or your job disappears.

I’ve known 50-year-olds pursuing doctorates. Fifteen or twenty years later, they start again.

Even supposedly linear careers fit the pattern.  I once met a doctor who started aan online business side hustle to pay the bills in medical school. The business soon generated more money than his day job of peering down sore throats. Now he works in medicine just enough to keep his license active. In another ten years, he may get bored and go back to full-time doctoring.

We talk a lot about the “loneliness epidemic.”

But what if the problem isn’t loneliness—it’s our outdated expectation that relationships are supposed to last forever?

Life isn’t linear anymore. Careers change. People move. Friendships pause and restart.

hips are even more cyclical.

Years ago, a psychologist talk show host described the first time she met her male hairdress:  “long curly hair and “three earrings in each ear.” Today he’s married with children and wears suits to work.

More than one woman I know has gone from marriage with a male spouse, to living intimately with another woman, and then back again.

Even families aren’t what they used to be. Birth families were once assumed to be “for life.” You stayed close. Your siblings were ride-or-die, even if they drove you crazy.

Now? People grow apart. Values shift. Estrangements happen. Sometimes people reconnect. Sometimes they don’t.

We even see this with religion. 

At my college reunions, the most devout have become atheists—and occasionally the reverse. A book by Matt Murray tells the story of his widowed father, who became a cloistered monk at 60. Single to married to monkhood.

Not linear. Cyclical.

Cycles can make us feel lonely.

Most of us do have friends—especially if we’re single by choice. Some friendships are deep. Some interactions are intense.

But friendships change.

You move. You develop new interests. So do they.

Friends disappear for years to raise children, live abroad, or go through something that’s emotionally intense. And so do you.

We see the stories  online:
“My friends have moved on.”
“I just moved and can’t make friends.”

The painful truth: Friends aren’t forever.

Neither is much of anything else.

The real skill isn’t finding permanent people. It’s learning how to keep finding new ones—and how to rely on yourself in between.

Birdie hop out and crow hop in.

When someone leaves, someone else eventually appears. Not right away. Not as a replacement. But space has been created.

They won’t be the same person.

But you’re not the same either.

The Myth of the “Lost” Friend

I see a lot of posts mourning the mysterious loss of a friendship.

Sometimes there is no explanation.

Recently, I saw a heartfelt post from someone whose decades-long friend disappeared after getting married and moving away. The writer wanted to track him down and demand an explanation.

The advice columnist said: don’t. Find new friends. Move on.

I would agree 100%.

Maybe the friend was overwhelmed. Maybe he didn’t want to put energy into deep conversations. Maybe he convinced himself it was time to take a break. Maybe his new life simply doesn’t overlap with the old.

Yes, some people maintain friendships for life. Some still gather annually with college friends well into retirement.

But most of us don’t live that way anymore.

We live in cycles.

med mom may reappear when the child becomes a “leave me alone” teenager.

People move away. They move back. They change. You change. Interests realign.

Sometimes they like being “the friend from far away” instead of the next-door neighbors.

Birdie hop out.

Crow hop in.

The post “Birdie hop out and crow hop in:” a better way to understand loneliness appeared first on .

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Headlines about “most elderly people” say more about stereotypes than reality

The New York Times just published an article titled “What Most Elderly People Need.”

The article discusses community health workers who help people in rural areas who are financially and often medically challenged as they age. Those people certainly deserve support. It may even make sense to create variations of that support for cities and suburbs.

But why does the article say “most elderly people?” I realize it is hard to come up with a compact headline that refers to people who are challenged in different ways. Still, this article appears in the New York Times, a newspaper whose readership skews urban, educated, and far from poor. Few of those readers will qualify for, or even want, community outreach services.

Well-meaning people will glance at the article and conclude that anyone over 65 needs help.

That leads to ridiculous and annoying interactions. For instance, I was happily walking home from a barre class when a stranger approached me and asked, “Do you need help?” I asked why she thought I did. She said, “You look old. My mother is old. She needs help. So I figured you did too.” It had never occurred to her that older people differ widely in whether they need help.

I once saw an article about how Philadelphia is tough on older people. It turned out the city is tough on poor older people. In fact, any place is hard for people of any age who face financial challenges. I know plenty of people in their 70s, 80s, and 90s who would not trade their Philadelphia homes for a palace anywhere else. We see Philly as a great place to live at any age.

The worst thing about these articles is that they reinforce stereotypes.

An older person is assumed to be poor, isolated, and frail. Someone commented on the article suggesting that “older” people need extra help with insurance claims and payments.

Aside from the fact that traditional Medicare involves relatively little paperwork, especially if you have a good insurance agent, insurance problems are hardly unique to older people. Even medical professionals struggle with insurance when they are the patient rather than the caregiver. And not everyone over 65, or even over 80, is cognitively impaired.

People in their 80s and 90s are running companies and running marathons. They manage their finances just fine.

Stories that claim to be about “most old people” are almost always false. A well-known saying among geriatricians is, “If you’ve seen one 80-year-old, you’ve seen one 80-year-old.”

There is no need to accept these stereotypes or give more ammunition to employers, services, and businesses that profit from defining older people in outdated ways. “Most elderly people” actually describes far fewer people than we are led to believe.

The post “Elderly” Does Not Mean Poor, Lonely Or Deprived appeared first on .

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1. How come you never got married?

2. You just got back from Paris – did you meet anyone special?

3. What do you even do on Christmas by yourself?

4. You’re eating alone in that corner with a book?  Don’t you want to join us?

5. What do you do if you get sick…or need a plumber… or the car breaks down?

6. Do you regret not having children?

7. Isn’t it scary to go to the movies all by yourself?

8. Don’t you wish you had children to help you through this?

9. Will there be just one – for dinner?  Did you actually want to eat?

10. Don’t you worry about dying alone?

11. You don’t want to be known as the Crazy Cat Lady or Crazy Cat Dad, do you?

12. Are you really going to buy that house all by yourself?

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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.

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An article titled, “Why elderly people have trouble with technology.” Or a cartoon line, “No worries about sharing a secret with your old friends: they won’t remember it either.” Or an ad, “So simple even your grandma could do it.”

I write a comment, “This article [or cartoon or ad[  is ageist.”

The author writes back, “Come on, get a life.” Or, “I have a lot of elderly clients like this.” Or, “A bad memory is just part of getting older; why not laugh about it?”

Here’s why.

I answer: Suppose someone is 60, 70, or even 80. They are applying for a job. Or inviting a client to hire them. Would you want that employer or this client to see this article before the interview or phone call?

Psychologists talk about priming, “a phenomenon in which exposure to one stimulus influences how a person responds to a subsequent, related stimulus.”
Stimulus 1: That article, cartoon or ad.
Stimulus 2: Somene’s in front of you applying for a job. You’re a freelancer or job applicant.

How does your exposure to Stimulus 1 lead to your reaction to Stimulus 2?

That should be the test. If you don’t want an employer (or freelance client) to be influenced by that article, it’s ageist.

Priming works subtly.

You can’t predict the hiring manager or client will ignore it. They won’t. In studies where women read articles about how women suck at math, they score lower on math tests. Deliberately? I don’t think so.

People learn stereotypes from these articles. If you’re above a certain age, for instance, they assume you can’t do tech.

My client sees an ad, ‘Even your grandma could do it.”
Then she sees me. I’m not a grandma but she doesn’t know that.
I don’t want a prospective client wondering if I know the basics of web design, QR codes, podcasting, email, AI, and other elements of the Internet world. I don’t want them wondering if they’ll have to slow down for me when they explain something. If I forget something I want them to realize it’s because I have too many projects going on…not because I’ve been around too long.

But you might say, “All  the people I know who are 60 (or 70 or 80) have this problem so it’s not ageist.”

And I would say, “You need new friends. All the people I know who are over 60 – even in their 80s – are perfectly capable of sending emails, sending messages, using QR codes and calling an Uber.  Some have videos, podcasts, websites and more.”

It’s not about age.

It’s about a combination of luck and education. Why not call your article, “Why technology can be a struggle,” not “Why older people struggle with technology.” Because it’s true: I know 30 year olds who are Luddites and 70 year olds who have podcasts.

This approach forces you to focus on the real point you want to make. 
“So simple your grandma could do it?” What are you saying – that older people are stupid? That there’s some mental defect that overtakes people when their child has a child? That everyone over 50 is a grandma – and loves it?  How about “So simple you don’t need a techie to do it?” or “So simple you could learn it in a week.”

When I see a reference to age in an article, I ask myself if I’d want to share that article with a prospective client. And sadly almost always the answer is “No, I hope they never see it. And I hope nobody else does either.”

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What Happens When Noise Gets Normalized in Health Care.

When I was a child, medical offices had old, dog-eared magazines. We read them or brought our own reading material.

I did not visit a doctor for most of my adult life. When I finally returned at the age to receive Medicare, I was shocked at what had changed. The magazines were gone, replaced by large, blaring television sets.

Some offices feature gourmet food channels, so we can watch all the gooey, sugary foods we are not supposed to eat. Others show Fox News, which feels little different from placing political material in the waiting room.

“But it helps people…”

“We think it helps people relax.” That explanation rings hollow when patients are then sent into exam rooms to wait again, this time in a literally sterile and silent environment surrounded by intimidating equipment. Somehow, the same people who supposedly need television to relax manage without it.

Sometimes receptionists say, “We need it for HIPAA.” That justification seems thin. It results in sound that is too low to follow yet loud enough to irritate. It leads to televisions positioned where many patients cannot even see the screen. Anyone who believes television meaningfully protects patient privacy is settling for a cheap and superficial solution.

It gets worse. People who bring companions simply talk over the television. Patients feel about as relaxed as they would in an airport when a technician suddenly appears to check blood pressure. The logic escapes me, and I often refuse, which earns me pointed notes in my patient portal. Then doctors seem surprised when I hesitate to return.

At times, I wonder if there is a grand scheme.

Add the television. Raise blood pressure. Prescribe drugs with serious side effects. Then declare a national crisis of hypertension.

In at least one hospital, Pennsylvania Hospital, rooms have two televisions without headsets, both in inpatient and emergency settings. It is hard to imagine how two people can listen to two different programs in the same space.

Medical staff often do not understand a patient’s wish for silence. Two doctors I know socially shrugged and said, “Can’t you just bring earplugs?”

Ordinary earplugs do not block a noisy television. Effective noise-canceling headphones are expensive, and they block all sound. You lose awareness of your surroundings and may not hear your name called. Receptionists typically respond, “That is your problem.”

They assume TV-watching is as natural as breathing.

Many nurses, technicians, and doctors seem unable to imagine that someone would choose not to watch television. I once spent a night in a blissfully silent recovery room. The nurses kept asking if I wanted the television turned on. They seemed genuinely surprised when I said no.

In one outpatient setting, when I objected to Fox News, I was invited to wait outside in the cold, in an area without seating. An emergency room receptionist at Pennsylvania Hospital told me I was free to leave if I did not like the television.

I once read a comment by a physician who described a patient, a retired professor, asking for the television to be turned off in a treatment area. When the doctor complied, the nurses complained. I believe it. I have seen the same disbelief when silence is preferred.

Another physician wrote online that she had tried to introduce quiet, calming alternatives in her waiting room. As she put it, “the money men” insisted on a television.

What really surprises me

Doctors publish extensive research on stress and blood pressure. They analyze treatment effects across populations. Yet they remain largely oblivious to the impact of an avoidable stressor: the television.

In a rare academic discussion of this issue, David A. Fryburg identifies several stress effects of television. He suggests that nature imagery and “kindness media” can help. He even mentions Oprah as an example, though many people find her programming stressful rather than soothing.

Fryburg also pushes back against replacing entertainment with medical education. Such material, he argues, can be boring or even frightening, triggering anxiety about potential diagnoses.

My own experience supports this. “Educational” content is often poorly produced and irrelevant. At one eye doctor’s office, repeated segments on cataract surgery frustrated me. I had already undergone the procedure, and the material reminded me of questions I wished I had asked earlier.

As Fryburg notes, media can have a rapid and profound impact. News programming can provoke stress, anxiety, and fear. Even neutral content such as home and garden shows can create boredom, which is itself a stressor.

I go to one clinic with no television and clear signs asking patients to take phone calls outside. It is blissfully quiet. The staff are calmer, and so are the patients. The contrast with high-stress specialties like cardiology could not be sharper.

This gap in understanding affects a growing segment of the population. More people live alone than ever before. In my city, nearly one third of housing units are occupied by a single person.

Some people need quiet to recharge. A reader from the UK once told me she was sent to a special waiting room to lower her blood pressure. The room was beautifully designed, but a large television dominated the space. She did not relax and ultimately required medication for the test. The assumption that relaxation equals television had direct consequences for her care.

What is needed

I will never understand why medical settings rely on a one-size-fits-all approach to sound. We now have affordable personal devices with headphones. Television programming is already tailored to narrow audiences. It is unrealistic to expect one show to soothe an entire waiting room.

As more people live alone and shape their own media habits, this issue will only grow. Many have abandoned traditional television altogether. There is no clear evidence that background noise, especially unwanted noise, improves health or lowers blood pressure. As Bella DePaulo has argued, people who thrive in solitude are not abnormal. They want silence.

The greatest resistance likely comes from what one physician called “the money men.” Writing a comment to an article, she wrote that she wanted to replace the television with a simple, comforting alternative. She was overruled.

It is hard not to wonder who benefits from all these screens. Are purchasing departments receiving incentives? Are administrators responding to unseen pressures? Is this another misplaced efficiency imposed from above?

These are questions worth asking.

In the meantime, I would welcome the return of those worn, outdated magazines. They were silent. They assumed patients could read. And they allowed something rare in modern medicine: a moment of calm.c

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