The Quiet Ache of Being Human
Loneliness doesn’t always slam into you. Sometimes, it arrives like fog-quiet, slow, clinging to everything.
You wake up, pour your coffee, scroll your phone. Notifications blink. A few emojis. A “How was your weekend?” But something in your chest feels… hollow. Like a room no one visits anymore. You smile. You answer. You go on. And still-a part of you whispers, “I miss something. I miss someone.”
Even if you don’t know who.
As a therapist, I sit across from people every day. I listen to heartbreak, numbness, longing, shame. I hear about crowded lives -families, partners, group chats, coworkers-and the echo inside them all.
I know that echo. I’ve heard it in my own bones.
Loneliness isn’t just the absence of people. It’s the absence of being known.
You can lie next to someone who loves you and still feel a mile away.
You can laugh at dinner and still go home feeling like a ghost in your own life.
Sometimes loneliness feels like walking through a party with glass walls around you. You see everyone. They see you. But nothing touches.
Other times, it’s a hunger- not for food, but for closeness.
For someone to ask the second question.
For someone to see the version of you that isn’t always “fine.”
And yet-we’re taught to keep it together. Be independent. Stay busy.
So we hold it in. We shrink our need for connection like it’s something to be embarrassed about.
But the truth is: loneliness is one of the most honest feelings we have.
It says, “I’m human. I want to be seen. I want to belong.”
In therapy, I often invite people to gently turn toward that ache instead of away from it.
To treat it not as something to fix, but something to listen to.
Because loneliness is a sign, not a sentence.
It tells us that we care.
That we crave intimacy, not just interaction.
That we need warmth, not just words.
If you’re feeling lonely, you’re not failing.
You’re responding to a real, human need.
Start small. One honest conversation. One brave message. One moment of saying, “Actually, I could use some company.”
Even fog lifts when warmth arrives.
Jaimini- Therapist and Human in Progress

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