“How have you been?”
“I don’t even know how to explain.”
“Oh? What do you mean?”
My friend Greg and I periodically have conversations like this. I can generally tell when something is up.
“People only call me when they need something from me,” he said, sounding irritated, “otherwise I go weeks without hearing from anyone”.
“Sounds like you’re feeling a bit lonely.”
“Yeah,” he laughs, “more than a bit.”
“Well, now you have a word for it”, I replied, hoping to lighten his mood. He laughs.
Greg is as so many men are: lonely. He lives alone, he’s separated from his former partner and doesn’t see much of his children. He has a couple of close friends and he wouldn’t say he’s close with any coworkers. He has a community at his gym — or he thought he did, but he’s questioning if he really belongs there. And the global pandemic is making it more difficult to connect.
Like many others, his routine has been hugely disrupted by the Covid-19 pandemic and the changes it has brought. With gyms closed, his monthly gatherings paused and social hang-outs with friends becoming scarce, he felt isolated. He said his new routine has been work, Netflix, and sleep. While he couldn’t really explain it in these exact words, he feels forgotten, distanced and unloved. People he felt like he was friends with from his gym haven’t reached out to him much, except to ask for favours.
“Do you reach out to people?” I ask him.
“Sometimes,” he replies, “but I know people are busy and I don’t want to bother them.”
Part of his feeling lonely is also his desire to not feel like a burden. So many men are socialized to believe that they shouldn’t need anyone; they should be tough, strong and independent.
That’s not how we’re wired
Humans, regardless of gender, are wired for connection.
Countless studies of orphanages across the world have found that social conditions matter. In settings where children lived in overcrowded, understaffed orphanages the children experienced negative social impacts. The staff in these facilities were so busy trying to care for the basic needs of all the children — food, toileting — that the babies were rarely held or interacted with. While their physical needs for food and cleanliness were met, their deeply human, emotional need for connection was not. Many of these babies died, and those who lived had chronic behavioural and social issues growing up, in addition to often persistent health problems.
The truth is that we need connection like we need food. We need it to grow, feel whole, find joy and become resilient.
We need connection to be resilient
Resilience is our ability to “bounce back” from adversity. In the end, needing others, prioritizing relationships and wanting human connection doesn’t make us weak, it makes us stronger.
That doesn’t mean it’s easy to articulate these needs though.
“So, for those friends that you feel like only contact you when they need something,” I continued, “have you told them how that makes you feel?”
“No”, he answered.
“They might think nothing of it if you don’t tell them how you really feel. They can’t read your mind.”
“Yeah.”
I know he’s not comfortable with the idea of opening up
Men are also socialized to not talk about how they feel, especially with feelings like sadness, loneliness or pain. They can express joy, anger, or frustration — but not hurt. We’ve been told that hurt is dangerous, hurt can be used against us. “Don’t let them see you cry. Don’t let them see you bleed”. Project invulnerability as if nothing can hurt you.
Again, this isn’t how we’re wired. We feel pain. Denying it only makes it worse. If we recognize it, rather than deny it, we can start dealing with it head-on.
You might feel like Greg, like my stepdad, like many men I know. Loneliness is real, and it hurts. But you don’t need to stay lonely. It might be how you feel, but it’s not who you are.
In the novel I’m currently reading, the 12-year-old protagonist has a revelation.
A stranger opened up to him about something difficult, and he immediately felt connected to that stranger, since she had shared a piece of herself with him. He realized that by not telling others anything about himself, he was denying himself the possibility of connection while simultaneously denying others the chance to get to know him.
He learned the truth: vulnerability is the basis for strong relationships that combat loneliness, and are a source of joy, resilience, and meaning.
Further Resources:
https://dudefluencer.com/male-loneliness/
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RbX76n6A160
https://www.npr.org/2019/10/11/769538697/guys-we-have-a-problem-how-american-masculinity-creates-lonely-men
https://www.goodtherapy.org/blog/life-as-lone-wolf-why-do-so-many-men-feel-lonely-129197
https://www.theladders.com/career-advice/practicing-toxic-masculinity-will-lead-to-a-lonely-unhappy-life
https://ca.movember.com/story/view/id/12247/talking-saves-lives-take-our-words-for-it
https://thewalrus.ca/the-epidemic-of-isolation-among-young-men/
