I’m walking down the curvy foothills road that leads back to my home. It’s late in the evening and it rained just a few hours ago. The sun is starting to set and the air is damp and musty. A breeze rolls through the tall dry grass and I hear a single coyote in the distance calling out for something, to someone — I’m lonely.
I can’t help but mirror my emotions onto the wild animal. The coyote isn’t an embodiment of loneliness and neither am I. I often, so easily, turn my strongest emotions into my identity. This might be because it feels simpler to say I am lonely than it is to admit that I feel lonely. I tend to intellectualize my emotions, for the longest time I thought I had somehow hacked the system; if I think about what I’m feeling, I don’t actually have to feel anything at all! The problem with this is that emotions are not meant to be rationalized. They are meant to be felt. I’ve spent the last few weeks trying to figure out what’s made me feel lonely. Is it the anxiety of being around groups of people after being in covid lockdown? Is it because my best friend recently ghosted me? Is it because I don’t interact with many people at work? The answer is yes. To all of that and probably more. But it doesn’t matter what caused me to feel this way, what matters is whether or not I let myself feel this way.
I’ve always been intrigued by the feeling of loneliness. I’ve never been without a good support system and at least one or two close friends, I have people to call on when I need them, and I have a perfect little dog that follows me everywhere (I can’t even go to the bathroom alone). I think what it boils down to is that loneliness, much like anger, is often a mask emotion — it covers up what you’re actually feeling. The trouble is you have to be able to look at yourself and discover what it is you’re really lacking and how to fulfill that on your own. Anger and loneliness are quite similar when you think about it. Often when we’re angry it’s because we feel misunderstood, or we’re grieving something or someone, maybe we’re burnt out from work, or stressed in our relationship. Loneliness can come from the same situations, it’s just the other side of a spectrum.
I find that when I’m feeling angry, it’s because I feel misunderstood, unseen, or unheard by the people close to me. When I’m feeling lonely, it’s because I’m making myself feel that way. I’m not taking the time to understand what I’m feeling, I’m not listening to my body and what it needs from me, I’m not seeing what’s hurting. Often, instead of trying to figure those things out, I just blame loneliness and casually, with a shrug, say, “I don’t know why I feel this way.” I know that I sound a little contradictory, me trying to figure out what I’m feeling. But I think there’s a fine line between intellectualizing and understanding. Yes, I need to feel things, sit in uncomfortable emotions. Recognizing and understanding what that emotion is trying to tell me is where I’m trying to get.
When I simply intellectualize instead of feeling and processing these intense emotions, they build under pressure. I then feel absolutely crazy while I’m out on my bike and I start sobbing out of, what feels like, nowhere.
Loneliness is often a bidding emotion. We think to ourselves, “Well once I have a partner that understands me, I won’t feel this way.” Or perhaps, “Once I find my community, I won’t feel lonely anymore.” Sometimes it’s even, “If I get a dog, I’ll spend all my time with them and I won’t feel sad again.” It seems like we’re always looking outwards and ahead. The majority of us aren’t yet able to say to ourselves, “I’m feeling lonely. I’m going to sit with this feeling, show myself compassion, and ground myself.”
With each year, it takes me less time to come to the conclusion that I need to spend quality one-on-one time with myself when I’m feeling lonely. Taking myself out on an untimed bike ride, stopping as much as I want to take photos of wildflowers, letting my mind wander to where it wants, then coming home to cook myself dinner — Nourishing my body and mind, alone.
Having a loving partner, a community you feel a part of, and even having a dog, can only fill you up so much. You’ve got to be able to love and understand yourself before anyone else can in a meaningful way. You’ll still feel lonely at times, don’t get me wrong, but hopefully by then you’ll be able to allow yourself to feel this one of many emotions that make us human.