Single and Lonely in Times of Transition?

Today's post is in answer to a special request from a special single blogger--Special K, PhD, who writes The Special K Treatment, a blog about living healthy in mind, body, and soul. Special K recently took on a task that demands a heaping dose of singletude. She moved across an ocean to another country all by herself. Though she had a job lined up, she didn't have a place to live when she arrived, and, to my knowledge, she doesn't speak the language. (Even though a lot of people speak English in this country, it must be disorienting when you can't read the street signs or understand the morning news.) Although K will surely adjust to her new environment and thrive in it, she found herself feeling lonely in the interim and asked for a post about why we feel alone during major life transitions.

In K's case, loneliness is a natural reaction to leaving family and friends 6,000 miles behind. But even when surrounded by loved ones, the transition to a new residence, a new job, or, in my case, a new lifestyle based around a long-term health problem, can trigger loneliness because we're out of sync with those around us. They cannot share in our experience. We're jolted by the reminder that no matter how closely others may follow us, they really can't walk a mile in our shoes. No two bodies can occupy the same space at the same time, and that applies to a life trajectory as well. When this trajectory diverges far from those around us, it becomes painfully obvious that, at the end of the day, we're on this journey alone.

As singles, however, we may be better equipped than couples for the loneliness of these transitions. One of the mythical promises of marriage is that those who pair up for the long haul will never be lonely again. So when upheavals in our lives force us to go to places, physical or mental, where no one can accompany us, it may be especially difficult for people in relationships to face that their marital vows or other commitments can't save them from those desolate moments. We singles, on the other hand, aren't deluded by the fantasy that we'll never have to confront challenges or adapt to changes alone. We're accustomed to self-reliance, which is undoubtedly an advantage when you are your only constant in a shifting world.

Another reason that transitions may rattle us is that many of us are creatures of habit. We grow attached to our routines, our familiar settings, and depend on them for security. To an extent, we define ourselves in relation to them. That's why we personalize our offices, our cars, our dorm rooms with things that remind us who we are--photos, awards or degrees, toys and gadgets, art, souvenirs. Transitional periods are likely to disrupt our rituals and remove us from our customary habitats. The loneliness we feel in these circumstances is a longing for the familiar and, by extension, for the sense of self that depends on the familiar. The chaos of change touches a chord at the very center of one's being, that center in which we wonder who we are apart from the identity reflected back to us by the environment we've carefully constructed.

Once again, I believe singles may be better prepared than marrieds to wrestle with this sense of isolation. For one thing, many of us are young, and change is a way of life. We get a lot of practice with transition as we graduate high school and then college, move away from our hometowns, and start our careers. In the early years of adulthood, we may start over multiple times. More importantly, though, a single person may be more apt to develop a strong sense of self that resides within because the single adult doesn't lose him or herself in a romantic partner or depend on a partner to reflect the self. Therefore, when significant transitions threaten to isolate us from everything that identity is grounded in, the single's robust sense of self can more easily weather the storm.

Above all, we should remember that loneliness is based on perception. There's no magic neighborhood we can live in, no magic club we can join, no magic number of friends we can make, not even a magic relationship we can find that will banish loneliness from our lives forever and ever. If loneliness really was rooted in whether or not we had these things, single people would be a lot lonelier than married couples. Yet we know that they are not. (See The Handbook of Marriage and the Family and Singled Out for evidence.)

Similarly, the loneliness we experience during transitional states is just that--transitional--springing from subjective feelings of disconnection rather than actual isolation most of the time. As uncomfortable as it can be, it is a chance to evaluate who we are at the core, without the crutch of the familiar to prop us up, an opportunity to reinvent ourselves unfettered by the expectations imposed on us by our daily milieu. Eventually, we cultivate new patterns, new norms, new cynosures by which we recognize ourselves, and we are not lonely in our own company once again.


Have you ever been through a major life transition that left you feeling lonely? Why do you think you felt lonely during this time? If you were single then, do you think your singleness made you feel more lonely or less lonely? How did you respond to the loneliness? What advice would you give to other singles who feel lonely during transitional periods?


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