Darlings, feeling lonely is a rampant problem, but feeling alone is not always the same thing as being alone. A woman can sit in a crowded room and feel invisible. She can share a home with someone she loves and still carry a private ache. She can have friends, family members, and a full calendar yet feel as though no one truly understands the landscape of her heart.

Feeling alone is pervasive, and it affects women across every age group and passage of life. Younger people are marrying later in life, if at all. Older people are living longer without their spouses. Families scatter across the country for jobs, warmer weather, and new opportunities. Our computers and iPhones have become our constant companions, but they cannot replace the warmth of a human voice or the comfort of someone sitting beside us.

People feel alone at work because their main communication tools are no longer other people but their computers and phones. Young families and grandparents feel alone because many families have scattered. And let’s not forget the women who feel lonely in a crowd, lonely in their marriages, lonely while caregiving, or lonely because meaningful relationships have changed. Feeling alone is not a personal failure. It is a human experience. But, darling, we cannot allow it to become the architect of our lives.

Identify The Cause of Your Loneliness

I could write and write about the solutions you already know. Top on my list: Join a group. Volunteer. Adopt a pet. Go to Starbucks. Take a class for fun. Listen and watch TED Talks. Take up a hobby such as writing or photography. These suggestions have value. But they are not magic elixirs. Before you can begin to address feeling alone, you have to understand its root cause. Otherwise, you may find yourself placing a small bandage over a much deeper wound.

When push comes to shove, it is up to you to identify the cause of your loneliness by understanding the symptoms. Ask yourself the hard questions. Be honest, even when the answers are uncomfortable.

• Are you lonely in your marriage or relationship?
• Are you lonely in your job?
• Do your friends make you feel lonely?
• Are you lonely because you are widowed?
• Are you lonely because you are estranged from your adult children?
• Are you lonely because you are a caregiver?
• Are you lonely because a passage of life has changed your daily rhythm?
• Are you lonely because you have lost touch with yourself?

Reflect Why You’re Feeling Alone

Sit down with a cup of tea or coffee, or wait until you are in bed at night for some alone time. Pick up a pen and a pad of paper or your computer and write down what makes you feel lonely. Then separate your thoughts into two columns: What can I change? What must I learn to carry differently because it is beyond my control?

This quiet act of self-reflection is a meaningful form of self care because it gives you the space to understand what your heart is trying to tell you. When you slow down long enough to name the source of your pain, you stop moving through your days on autopilot. You begin to separate what you can change from what you must learn to carry differently. That clarity is a gift. It helps you make thoughtful choices, protect your energy, and care for yourself with greater tenderness and intention.

I Identified and Conquered My Lonely Feeling

Several years ago, I felt lonely living in Palm Springs. That was a biggie because I lived there with my Ultimate Concierge for six months of the year. What made me feel lonely in Palm Springs?

The physical landscape.

I tried to shake it. I couldn’t. When walking down the street with my Ultimate Concierge or having lunch with girlfriends, laughing and talking, I could feel loneliness creep into my soul because of the desert’s physical environment. The landscape was stark, with cacti and rocky mountains devoid of foliage. It felt emotionally cold.

I came to understand that loneliness is not always about people. Sometimes it is about the absence of a landscape that speaks your language. Certain places nourish us invisibly. They awaken energy, sensuality, calm, and curiosity. Others, though beautiful in their own severe way, can leave us emotionally thirsty.

The desert landscape was my first experience with continuous loneliness. I have always been a nature lover. The first time I laid eyes on Palm Springs, California, I noticed its stark mountains and asked my Ultimate Concierge, “Where is the foliage on the mountains?” I had lived in Honolulu, where the volcanic mountains glittered in green. The contrast was startling. I felt loneliness creep over me. It never left until I left.

When the Landscape Does Not Speak Your Language

Living in the desert played a part in my discovery of how deeply the physical world seeped into my spirit. The desert carried a magnificent silence, but to me it was a silence that echoed the word loneliness. Its vastness made me feel untethered, as though the horizon stretched so far it swallowed intimacy itself.

I recall a drive through the desert to Scottsdale with my Ultimate Concierge, saying, “I wish the desert were aglow with orchids instead of cacti.” It was on that ride that I decided our new pooch’s name would be Orchid.

By contrast, the smell of salt air and swaying palms was ambrosia to me. The Sea did not sit still with my thoughts. It loosened them. The palms danced. The salt air brushed over my skin. Nature in Honolulu had its own emotional vocabulary without saying a word. It brought me tranquility. The stark mountains and cacti of the desert did the opposite. They were too severe for my spirit. The light in Honolulu had a quiet glow that awakened my energy, sensuality, calm, and curiosity. The desert left me emotionally thirsty.

Nature Was My Companion

I learned that nature was not merely the scenery surrounding my life. It was my silent companion, and I needed the right landscape to completely fill my cup. When we left, I found myself missing the home we built together, which I privately named Shangri-La; my olive tree, which I had replanted at my housekeeper Rosa’s home; and close friends. I have never looked back, and that is why I know leaving was the right decision. I understood that this form of loneliness was a condition of the natural landscape, not my identity, and I could find a home near the Sea.

What is important is that this type of loneliness did not mar my lifestyle. It was not chronic. It quietly hovered. Eventually, I knew it was time to move on. Therefore, darling, the lesson is this: change what you can. Do not remain stuck when change is possible. Do not let fear prevent you from creating surroundings that nourish your spirit. Sometimes self-care means giving yourself permission to leave one landscape and search for another.

When Feeling Alone Cannot Be Quickly Solved

But there is another form of feeling alone. It cannot be solved with a move, a fresh view, or a change of scenery.I, like many of you, am going through a lonely period that has changed the landscape of my life. My best friend, my Ultimate Concierge, is suffering from the last stage of vascular dementia. I need not say more.

There are seasons in life when loneliness is not a problem to solve but a reality to endure with as much dignity, tenderness, and courage as we can gather.

I sigh.

Widowhood. A move. Children flying the nest. A loss. A marriage that is cooling. An illness. Estrangement from meaningful relationships. Retirement. There are certain lonely times when people love and care deeply. They offer advice. They sit beside you. They distract you. They admire your strength. Yet, you are still unable to lift the weight of feeling alone because the circumstances cannot be changed.

This form of loneliness is not our identity. It is a room we are passing through. It may be a painful room. It may be a room we never would have chosen. But it is not the entire architecture of our lives. To combat my lonely feelings, I force myself to show up for life because it keeps me moving forward. It is very, very difficult. I suggest you try to do the same so you don’t lose yourself entirely.

 

The Quiet Gift of Solitude

I found myself asking, “How do I carry this aloneness without losing myself?” Over time, I discovered that aloneness has another side. Its name is sublime solitude. Solitude has become my quiet workshop. In the stillness of my life, I began to hear my own thoughts more clearly instead of the clatter of everyone else’s opinions.

Through my days of solitude in my condo in the sky, I have found a certain dignity. I have learned I can stave off loneliness by reading, escaping into biographies on Netflix and Prime, tending to my orchid, jade, ficus, and Kentia trees, and listening to the rain. These small rituals are not meaningless distractions. They are self care. They remind me that my days still belong to me. They give my mind somewhere gentle to rest and my spirit something beautiful to tend.

I have become unburdened by trivialities and concentrate on what is meaningful. I no longer expect, nor do I crave. Solitude has become a blessing. The bustling world of negativity and gossip is no longer important, and it has made room in my head to grow peacefully and intellectually. Though alone, I am blooming to new heights as I become increasingly aware of myself and my needs. And so can you.

For the Woman Who Feels Trapped

For the woman who cannot simply shrug off feeling alone, I will not sugarcoat the truth. There may be no easy rescue. A group, a hobby, or a cheerful invitation may not fully erase the ache of coming home to silence or carrying a burden without the steady presence you wish you had.

But darling, this does not mean your life is empty. It means you must become intentional about creating momentum. You may have to build rituals that hold you when people cannot. Plant a garden in your yard or on your windowsill. Adopt a pet if you are able to care for one. Buy a ticket to the ballet or theatre and strike up a conversation with the woman sitting beside you. Join a group trip as a solo traveler. Make yourself a lovely dinner and set the table. Take a walk at the same hour each day until the neighborhood begins to recognize your face.

Will these rituals replace the person or life you are missing? No. And I will not pretend they will. But they can keep you tethered to the world. They can place one meaningful marker in the day ahead. One ritual becomes two. One conversation opens a door. One brave outing reminds you that your life is still moving.

Create Your Own Road Map

Now it is your turn, darling. Pull out your journal and begin. Ask yourself:

• What is the root cause of my feeling alone?
• What can I change?
• What is beyond my control?
• What ritual would give my day structure and beauty?
• What small action would help me feel connected to life again?

I will not pretend this work is easy. It may ask more of you than you feel ready to give. There may be mornings when getting out of bed feels like an accomplishment. There may be days when the silence feels especially loud. There may be moments when you wonder whether one small step can truly make a difference.

Take the step anyway.

Feeling alone may be a room you are passing through, but you still have the power to open a window, let in fresh air, and bring a little beauty inside. You may not be able to change every circumstance, but you can decide how you will care for yourself while you move through it.

You are stronger than you think. You have already survived hard passages. You have already adapted, rebuilt, and carried burdens that once seemed impossible. This season may be asking something new of you, but that does not mean you are incapable of meeting it. Do not give up on yourself. Show up for your life, especially when it is difficult. You can do hard things. And you do not have to do all of them today.

Will you make one small commitment to yourself? Share it with me in the comments below.