By definition, loneliness is a discrepancy between the social interactions we desire and those we achieve. Crucially, loneliness arises not merely from a lack of companionship, but also from relationships that fail to provide genuine comfort or support. 

According to the National Library of Medicine, loneliness peaks during adolescence and early adulthood: about three-quarters of 18 year-olds experience recurrent loneliness, declining slowly to 60% by age 35 and 39% in adults aged 75 and older. Excessive loneliness is not benign — it contributes to anxiety, depression, social withdrawal, poor physical health and insecure attachment styles.

Individuals in emerging adulthood, which is defined by frequent change and instability — whether in finances, physical displacement of changing environments, romantic relationships or social groups — are uniquely susceptible to loneliness. 

Our generation navigates an environment characterized by fluid identities and memberships, ever-shifting boundaries and a pervasive desire to belong. Urbanization and digitalization have exacerbated this isolation, creating what sociologists now call a “society of singletons” in which more individuals than ever before live alone. 

Individuals who lack established social networks, cultural familiarity or adequate personal support — especially through familial and friendship bonds — are particularly vulnerable to experiencing heightened levels of loneliness. 

Beneath these clinical descriptions lie countless piercing stories — stories I have seen, stories I have lived — of alienation, identity loss, cultural estrangement and a deep yearning to reconnect with the rituals and norms of genuine human interaction that provide a sense of belonging and fulfillment.

Amid ongoing debates about independence versus cultivating genuine relationships in young adulthood, I would like to emphasize that loneliness at this stage is fundamentally structural. In this age of in-between, young adults’ solitude is not merely a personal struggle but a reflection of broader societal forces that weaken social ties and make the gap between sought-after and actual connections an unavoidable reality. 

There is no singular, universal solution to loneliness. I firmly believe it’s entirely possible and sometimes necessary to empower oneself independently. If you want to experience something, you don’t always need a companion, just do it yourself. Yet this conviction does not diminish the profound value of authentic human connection — the mutual care, empathy and intimacy that only another person can offer.

The dual nature of loneliness has been explored by many writers, including one of my favorites, Virginia Woolf, who captures this tension in her letters and novels. She reflects, “Solitude … is the last resort of the civilised: our souls are so creased and soured in meaning we can only unfold them when we are alone.” Yet she also confesses, “But I pine in Solitude. Solitude is my undoing.”

I have known great suffering in loneliness, but I’ve also known no greater joy than to be alone, to accept the presence of myself stripped bare of all else. The challenge lies in finding balance, a balance uniquely yours. 

As you go on this journey, I wish to gently remind you that what you experience is structural and embedded in the very fabric of contemporary life. Be patient with yourself as you navigate these complexities. In understanding that loneliness is part of a shared condition, remember this: In the most profound sense, you are never truly alone.