My Loneliness Caught Me By Surprise...

In this honest, heartfelt piece, Drew Davies talks about the loneliness that took him by surprise and how speaking about it helped him heal.

My loneliness caught me by surprise, as I’m sure it does for many of us. A family member died. A long-term relationship ended. Our mutual friends became less mutual. I found myself living – and working – alone, and the walls started to close in.

I’m a novelist, so I’m used to spending a lot of time by myself. My last book, “The Locked-Away Life”, was even about isolation and loneliness – life imitating art. But this was different. I felt an overwhelming need for more connection, but also a desire to withdraw. How was I supposed to become less lonely, when all I wanted to do was hide?

When I did catch up with friends and family, we’d chat about our lives, and I’d feel momentarily better, but afterwards, the loneliness would come crashing back, along with the realisation I hadn’t been completely honest, because I’d hidden my loneliness from them. Who would want that burden? I thought. I didn’t want to “ruin” our time together.

Bizarrely, in the same moment, I was going viral on Instagram, and my DM’s were flooded with messages. The attention was great initially, but I quickly felt commodified – people in my comments would talk about me in the third person, I had to deal with negativity and judgments – it was a wild ride. I also connected with some wonderful folk I’m still friends with, but they were all virtual.

I knew something had to change, but I wasn’t sure what – and that scared me.

And then, after a dance class one Friday, in a sharing circle, I decided to tell everyone the truth. Emotion caught in my throat, but as I spoke the words out loud, I felt better. And then afterwards, instead of pity, people came up to me with understanding and empathy. They had felt lonely too, they revealed, and appreciated me speaking out. I left feeling lighter.

The next time I met a friend, I used the same technique. When asked how I was, instead of replying, “Yeah, good,” and chatting about some benign news, I replied, “Actually, I’ve been feeling a bit lonely.” Surprisingly, I only ever received understanding, never judgment. No one asked, “but, have you tried…?” They wanted to hear my story.

My next step was to go public, online. I agonised over this, the stakes felt so high. But when I posted my Reel on Instagram, the support was immediate, as were the many messages of, “I feel lonely too!”. It was a watershed moment, and one that really proved to me that loneliness is a normal universal emotion, but one we struggle discussing.

Since then, I’ve continued to talk about loneliness, to help others, sure, but primarily to help myself. I made some big life changes – leaving the UK to go travelling and working abroad – which has helped, while also creating new challenges.

I’m less afraid of my loneliness now. I know I can speak about it, which tempers its power over me.  Whether it’s a room full of strangers after a dance class, or your best friend, or a counselor, or someone you call on a hotline, if you’re feeling lonely, I encourage you to tell someone. Taking that first step can be terrifying, but it leads to somewhere better.