Essays: Accepting Loneliness

How I live with loneliness

I had every intention to continue our journey with Elswyth this week, so we could find out who exactly that man at the door to the book shop was. But somehow, the days slipped away from me, and I found myself accepting the fate of the next chapter’s delay. As the hours passed, an unexpected wave of loneliness washed over me, without rhyme or reason. Sometimes, those feelings surface out of nowhere. Rather than follow my usual modus operandi of pushing through, I thought, why not explore it? And so, this essay was born—an exploration of loneliness and what it means to accept it.

Photo by Jametlene Reskp on Unsplash

Accepting loneliness. At first glance, it sounds like a burden, a weight carried by those who've endured a lifetime of heartbreak, of bad luck and loss. As if someone had lived with the ache of loneliness for so long that acceptance became the only option.

But for me, it’s different.

I’ve come to believe that loneliness is a natural part of the human experience. It’s not a flaw or a failing, but an emotion that reminds us of our humanity. To accept loneliness is to accept that I am, in all my imperfections, simply human. It means I will feel the full range of what it is to be alive—the highs, the lows, and yes, even the aching quiet of loneliness. And by accepting it, I allow myself to keep moving forward.

When we refuse to come to terms with loneliness, we often end up making it worse. We resist it, feel ashamed of it, and in doing so, we sink deeper into its hold. The more we fight it, the more it entangles us, like quicksand pulling us under. By fearing loneliness, by letting shame take root, we dig ourselves into an emotional pit that becomes harder to escape. Before long, we find ourselves trapped—unable to live the life we imagined, stuck in the one we’ve settled for.

But what does it really mean to "accept" loneliness? It doesn’t mean the feeling vanishes with a simple acknowledgment. You don’t just say, "Okay, I’m lonely," and suddenly feel better. No, the weight is still there, lingering like a shadow. Accepting it, though, means recognizing that it doesn’t define you. It’s like tossing yourself a lifeline before you sink any further.

In that moment, when you remind yourself, "This too shall pass," you create space. You allow yourself the understanding that time moves forward, that nothing stays the same forever. And with time comes change—new experiences, new people, new opportunities. The sting of loneliness, like all things, begins to soften and fade.

Loneliness isn’t always about being physically alone. Sometimes it’s that quiet disconnect in a crowded room, the feeling of isolation that settles in even when you’re surrounded by others. Or the stillness of a night where your mind loops endlessly around what’s missing. I’ve learned that it’s not the loneliness itself that’s the problem. It’s how we relate to it. It’s our willingness to accept that loneliness is a part of life—not something to escape or fix, but something to understand.

There was a time when I sat with that silence, my heart heavy with the weight of feeling unseen. But time, I’ve found, has a way of softening those rough edges. Little by little, moments began to shift, and the world opened up again. And as the world opened, so did I.

Accepting loneliness doesn’t mean surrendering to it forever. It means offering yourself the grace to feel it without judgment. It means reminding yourself, like everything else in life, this too shall pass. Time will bring change, and the ache of loneliness will eventually make way for something softer, something lighter.

Staying present is key. If you let loneliness consume you, it can blind you to the life happening right in front of you. My own life may very well have been a series of coincidences and happenstances, but I’ve noticed that the moment I accept loneliness—truly accept it—something shifts. It’s as though the universe, or fate, finds a way to fill the void.

That empty place, once heavy with sorrow, gradually fills with joy, new experiences, and cherished memories. It’s funny how that happens. But if you’re too wrapped up in the weight of grief, you might miss it entirely. It’s hard to look beyond the ache that loneliness brings, but if you stay present and remind yourself that it will pass—just as everything does—you’ll find that life has a way of surprising you when you least expect it.

Thank you for reading! I cherish every reader for sharing their time with me. If you are not currently a subscriber and would like to be notified when a new post is made please consider subscribing.