I said hi to a familiar face, gave a smile and wandered past. Then another “hi” and a “how’s it going” to a couple more people. All-the-while I was searching for someone, searching for something that I couldn’t name. I walked to a table full of snacks to pretend to have somewhere to go. I fidgeted with my drink, ate something even though I wasn’t hungry. I went on the move again, fearing someone would notice I didn’t have anyone to talk to. I started to realize I was running from this creeping feeling that I was alone. I couldn’t control my thoughts and couldn’t understand what was going on. Loneliness didn’t make any sense, I knew so many people here! I’d think about talking to someone and then talk myself out of it. My attention moved from one person to the next, How about them? Or them? Or them? The excuses kept filtering through, “I don’t know them too well, we’ve had a bit of a falling out, or they’re too busy with their own life.”

Frustrated, isolated and alone, in a room of 300 people, most of whom I knew at least by name, occupation, and passion; I fought the urge to walk out and not come back…

Before I continue, let’s rewind a couple years to provide some more context.

I’d been going to a church that I absolutely loved. Their mission and vision was serving people with excellence and creativity. I love people and love being active in community so I had jumped right in. I led some local service projects, did bike ride fundraisers, attended some small groups, led others and even started a few.

Socially, objectively, I was connected.

After a few years of being a DC resident, I felt very at home. I had a close core group of friends that hung out regularly, with a built-in social outlet of roommates who happened to be close friends. Eventually three of my best guy friends and I started dating girls around the same time. For a year or so everything was awesome.

We hung out regularly through the week, spent weekends out on the town, and traveled to all sorts of destinations as a group. We were able to share that time in our life. We could go on double or triple dates, or talk about our relationships or what was happening in our careers. As all four of our romantic relationships got more serious though, things progressed towards marriage for my friends, while they became more and more unclear for me and my girlfriend. Then, as winter led to spring that year, all three of my friends ended up engaged, while I ended up newly single.

As the spring turned to summer, I found myself busy helping my friends prepare for and get married. While being in those three weddings and attending another five in less than 6 months wasn’t easy, it wasn’t nearly as hard as the next season in my life.

I know I’m not the only one who’s experienced a major shift in groups of friends, but having to navigate the dynamics of three close male relationships changing all at once, was one of the more difficult things I’ve had to deal with in my life. While I’d love to (and eventually will) dive into this topic a little more, this blog isn’t supposed to be an ode to the popular narrative of “friend gets married, disappears from single friends’ lives”. I bring this up now only to provide the right backdrop for the scene I started this blog off with.

Less than a year into wading through re-figuring out what my closest relationships would look like, I would have still told you I had good community. I still had a solid group of friends despite the shifts and had some promising mentoring relationships, but I was beginning to feel insecure about it all.

It was with this in my head, trying to process through all these events, that I found myself at a church leadership retreat. We had just listened to a great talk about how to be intentional with those who have the strongest voices in our lives. It was a timely message and I was wandering around the hotel during a break in the action, wanting to talk to someone about life. I wanted to talk to someone about what was going on in my head and how I was processing it all. As I looked around the crowd of familiar faces though, I didn’t see anyone I felt I could broach that subject with.

Realizing I had no one to talk to, fighting the urge to flee, I had this out of body experience as my gaze shifted from one potential conversation to another that I knew wouldn’t fill the void I felt to be known:

I was completely alone, surrounded by 300 people I knew.

How could I end up in this position? Was something wrong with me? Had I done something wrong or was this a failure of those around me? Was this just a reality of life? Where was I supposed to go from here?

It’s not that I couldn’t have had a conversation with someone there, or even maybe a conversation that would have left me feeling known and understood. My fear was that  even if I did have the courage to say something, that no one would actually understand me. This kept me silent. At the very least, I didn’t have the relational foundation or freedom to broach such a topic with anyone. I knew this was a problem, but felt so very inadequate and ill-equipped to remedy it. I felt helpless.

My fear was that  even if I did have the courage to say something, that no one would actually understand me. This kept me silent.

In my journey since then, I have come to realize that this experience is far from unique. I have talked to so many who have had this same type of moment. So, if this is you right now. If you’ve had this moment or are in this moment right now. You need to know something:

You are not alone in feeling alone.

You are not alone in this world.

It’s actually very likely that the feeling of loneliness you are experiencing is not rooted in the reality of the connection you actually have available to you. Our minds are really good at getting us caught up in false narratives. Translation: it’s pretty likely you have friends or family members who would LOVE nothing more than to listen to what’s on your mind today. It’ll take courage to share with them though.

Luckily the good news doesn’t stop there though. There’s an even more important truth, maybe the most important truth of all: even if your lack of connection is rooted in real social isolation that’s a part of whatever your current situation is right now, your lack of experienced connection does NOT define your worthiness of connection.

I’ll say that again because it’s that important.

Your lack of experienced connection does NOT define your worthiness of connection.

Someone needed to hear that today (more than just me). Someone needs to hear this every day.

Write that down on sticky notes and put it next to your bed, on your bathroom mirror, and monitor at work. Read those words again, and again, and again. Keep reading them till you believe them in your core. Speak it into your life every time you start to doubt it.

YOU ARE WORTHY OF CONNECTION.

Please believe me when I tell you that there is a beautiful power and strength that has grown from that feeling of loneliness I felt that day, that I still feel from time to time. I don’t think I could believe in anything more strongly than the idea that what you’re feeling today can be used to impact the world in ways that you couldn’t even imagine. If only we can learn to embrace the scary moments with courage.

I have so much more I want to use this story as a springboard for because it has been such a pivotal moment in my life, but I can’t possibly do that in one blog so we’re gonna wind this thing down right now before I get carried away. Next blog we’ll continue down this path though, I can’t wait for where it’s gonna take us.

Thanks for reading, please share it with someone who needs to know they’re not alone and worthy of connection.

~ David