What Lonely People Have to Say About Their Lives
"It can be pathologized quite easily. We should be more accepting."
By Tyler Woods published March 5, 2024 - last reviewed on April 16, 2024
When iconic lonely person Eleanor Rigby died in the church and was buried along with her name, the Beatles tell us, nobody came. But they don’t tell us much more about her. How did she become lonely? And where did she ever belong? These are the questions Sam Carr asks in his new book, All the Lonely People, a collection of stories of people experiencing loneliness, including senior citizens and foster children, along with recollections from his own life. A professor in the department of education at the University of Bath in England, Carr has long studied loneliness, a state he believes we will all experience at some point.
How did you become a scholar of loneliness?
I’ve always been fascinated by human connection and disconnection, probably because of my own experiences starting from childhood. I think they probably drive my interest in understanding how hard it can be to be human sometimes.
Your book grew out of the Loneliness Project you directed from 2019 to 2021. What did that involve?
We interviewed people in retirement communities in the U.K. and Australia. The idea was that if we can better understand what loneliness feels like for older people, we might be better able to support them.
Was there anything that surprised you about their stories?
I was surprised by the number of people who identified themselves as lonely and wanted to talk about their loneliness, but when I arrived, their instinct was to first give me a sort of small print about how they’re not mentally ill and how they’re not one of those lonely people that you see on TV. They really wanted to distance themselves from the idea that they were being classified with some sort of pathology, even though they’d signed up to talk about it and wanted to talk about it.
You’ve stated that loneliness is often misunderstood. In what way?
There really isn’t one thing called “loneliness.” It has so many faces and can be radically different for people. Someone could be lonely because they’ve never had a romantic relationship and they’ve always wanted one, so their loneliness comes from a place of absence. That’s completely different from someone who is married but feels incredibly lonely in their relationship, who doesn’t feel seen. Different still is someone who is lonely because they just lost their partner.
How should we be thinking about loneliness today?
We seem to be in a cultural moment where we don’t want to confront the difficult parts of life, or are afraid to feel them. Loneliness, depression, fear—they can all be pathologized quite easily. I believe we should be more accepting of the darker sides of being human, because most of them have something to offer.
What does loneliness have to offer?
Ironically, the possibility of connection. Sharing our experiences of loneliness is one of the most connective things we can do. Hearing others’ stories is a reminder that other people have similar burdens to bear. We all hold loneliness inside us, although many people feel ashamed of that, as if it’s pathological. To deny it, I think, is a mistake. Telling your story of loneliness is almost the antithesis of being lonely. I found that, for many people, sharing their experience of loneliness was one of the only treatments for it.
What else did you learn about loneliness from the elders you met?
Some were surprised by their situation and brought to their knees, while others felt more at peace. I’ve also seen people try to run from it, but you can’t. I’ve seen people try to buy their way out of it by, for example, thinking, “Well, if we pay for this really expensive retirement community, we could be 50 forever because they promised in the marketing campaign that we would have golf clubs in the back of our Jeep, a suntan, a gym.”
So, is being more realistic about loneliness the key to avoiding despair?
I think, when it comes to aging, some people would find it a virtue to not be realistic about it, to never give up trying to stay young. But there comes a point when, I think, you do have to accept that life is about loss, too. You’re going to lose the people you love. You’re going to lose your career. Your body is going to degrade. What I saw is that if you’re unwilling to accept that reality when it happens, it’s going to be brutal.
It’s 8 o’clock in England. What are your plans for tonight?
My son has just gone to a party, so I’m alone tonight, and I like that. I’m quite happy about that.
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