Mohini Kundu

I have an almost inhuman tolerance for being by myself. I’ve been working from home for long stretches since before the pandemic made it cool, and exclusively since 2023. I’ve done it so much that multiple people have asked me whether it makes me lose my mind. I don’t think it does? But then here I am writing a blog about loneliness…

Modern loneliness has many layers to it. We grow up in households with fewer children. We don’t trust our neighbors as we once did, and we don’t depend on them in quite the same way. Our beliefs or affiliations dictate who we can and can’t even converse with. We were born into a world where people can travel and transplant more easily than ever. As a result I grew up with countries and oceans between myself and my closest family.

Having the freedom to choose our communities also means that you may choose at any moment to drop them when they become difficult or annoying. Let’s face it, at one time or another, every relationship is difficult or annoying. And because we have the option of not engaging, it seems we’ve lost much of our ability to tolerate that. We fence ourselves in with boundaries to preserve our peace. We get divorced. We ghost our peers.

Add to this the invisibility cloak of technology. Is there any loneliness quite like trying to share something special to you with someone and the other person is just… gone. Absolutely disappeared into their phone. Is there anything sadder than trying to craft your worries, fears, and deep feelings into a single text message to a friend when they ask how you are. You probably just give up and say you’re fine, all while knowing that if they had asked you in person you might not have been able to hold back your tears.

Parenthood is another catalyst for isolation. There’s no such thing as spontaneous plans. Post 6pm I belong to my child. I know this is not forever and there’s much that I cherish about these nights and days. But when you feel alone, these factors widen the moat surrounding you impossibly.

It’s not that I have no one. It’s not that no one cares. I still feel so, so alone.

I don’t have a solution. I’m sitting in the problem. I can feel myself slipping into a depression like I haven’t experienced in years. I understand why people turn to AI bots. I crave more than anything for someone to just listen without reaching for their phone, or without me having to run home in the next 30 minutes. I wish for uninterrupted time to let my feelings out with someone, and for them to do the same. I wish to look someone in the eyes and feel understood. I wish to be held until I can come back to my body.

I know I’m likely years away from the life I’m dreaming of. One where I have taken the time to carefully craft my own community, showing up for others and letting them show up for me in turn. Carving out an intentional space for the people in my life and freeing it of the noise that keeps us from listening to each other. I can’t control whether I can be heard now. I can only choose to keep reaching out — and to listen.