‘It’s like being at a silent disco without the headphones on, everyone is dancing to music you can’t hear’

This is how someone described loneliness at a conference I was at a few weeks ago. I could immediately relate to what they meant. Loneliness is being talked about all over the media at the moment, but it’s not new and its definitely not just about older age.

I manage a programme which aims to reduce loneliness for people. And a bit like how, when you decide you might buy a new car, and suddenly it seems like everyone is driving around in the one you’ve had your eye on, I am now noticing loneliness everywhere.

Sometimes the things I blog about are really planned and thought about, and other times, like this, it just seems important to write something that has popped into my life repeatedly over the last few weeks and months.

The Campaign To End Loneliness defines loneliness as ‘the unwelcome feeling of lack or loss of companionship. It happens when we have a mismatch between the quantity and quality of social relationships that we have, and those that we want’ (Perlman and Peplau, 1981)

This makes loneliness an incredibly personal experience.

I didn’t really think about loneliness until I started doing the job I do now. Then I realised looking back that there have been lots of times in my life where I’ve felt very lonely. I’m prone to loneliness because I’m a bit rubbish at being in my own company for too long. I like people. I grew up with close siblings. I shared a bedroom with my sister until I moved out of my family home and even then I only moved out to buy a house with my brother. I am a serial  monogamist. So being alone just wasn’t really part of my experience.

I’ve talked about loneliness with friends and family a bit over the last few weeks and it seems that everyone has their own experiences of being lonely. Mostly, people have talked about temporary feelings of loneliness linked to life transitions. For instance, I used to get lonely in the school holidays as a teenager. Sometimes the lack of connectedness to others for seven hours a day used to make me feel like I was going out of my mind. I used to walk to the supermarket for no reason, feel like the isles were closing in on me and leave in a blind panic. Some weeks I would book dentist appointments to give my day a bit of structure so I had someone new to talk to. And I bloody hate the dentist.

I was lonely when my friends went to University and I stayed home and got a full time job. Then I was lonely as a new Mum to my first baby. During all these periods it felt exactly like I was on the outside looking into a world I couldn’t access. In my head everyone else was having more fun than me, everyone else had friends and connections and somehow I wasn’t doing well enough to be included. God help today’s young people, growing up in a world where every social experience is plastered on social media. Now they don’t have to imagine every one having fun without them, they can see it for themselves. I’m not sure what’s worse.

And how hard is it to make new friends as a grown up?! It can be so awkward to do that thing where you step outside the social norm of chatting in a break or on the school run and actually invite an acquaintance or colleague over for a cup of tea. When there are not longer social structures around to force people into your life, making the effort to ‘build relationships’ with your peers is scary as hell. This article about making friends as an adult is really interesting

Looking back I also know that feeling lonely doesn’t bring out the best in me. Instead of it making me more eager and more likely to make new friends, it makes me panicky and needy. I am more likely to perceive other people as a threat, or distrust their kindness. Feeling lonely made it harder for me to trust people. And that’s the bit that isn’t always talked about in the media, which is guilty of simplifying the problem and the potential solutions.

We are gathering evidence in my job about what it takes to overcome loneliness, and what we know is that it definitely isn’t as simple as just rocking up to your local craft group and joining in. Don’t get me wrong, connecting yourself to something and meeting new people is always a good way of starting to combat feelings of loneliness. But the battle doesn’t end there. If you’re like me, you have to overcome the demons in your head telling you that nobody really likes you, or that everyone else there is different to you and you are wasting your time. Then you have to give people a chance to get to know you and hope they don’t reject you. Then eventually you might realise that people are generally kind and care about you and you can call them friends. But this can all take lots of time and bravery. In my opinion overcoming loneliness starts when you find a way to build a better relationship with yourself. Which sounds like some hideous American slogan for self help, but is actually true in lots of ways.

Now I’m a bit older, I realise that there were people in my life during those times of loneliness that I didn’t call upon enough. In those times I felt paralysed by loneliness and powerless to do anything about it. I was saved repeatedly from my loneliness by Centre Stage, the theatre group that was like a family, and relationships I’d had with people as a young person which survived the test of time when I needed them.

Centre Stage was always full of people who were there if I needed them

I try harder now to nourish the relationships in my life and I try and panic less if not everyone likes me or wants to be my friend, because as I’ve grown older I’m a bit more chilled and open minded and I’m better at recognising what I need to feel happy.

I’m not sure what I would tell my younger self in those times of loneliness, probably to open up more and give people a chance. I’d encourage myself to reach out to people and have some patience. But hindsight is a wonderful thing.

I don’t think there are any magic solutions to cure loneliness. Just small steps we can all take to stay in touch more and value our relationships. Underneath we all need to feel connected to each other, it’s part of what makes us human and we should never feel ashamed to talk about it.

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

 

What happens when you fall in love with your Personal Trainer

“It must be so much easier for you to stay in shape if your other half is a fitness professional!” I hear this a lot, and someone at my day job said it to me this week, and it made me think about the absolute joy and some of the less joyous things about living with Danny, who is my coach, and technically when I’m at the gym, also my boss! And don’t worry, this isn’t about the way he leaves the toilet seat up (he doesn’t) or leave his dirty clothes on floor (he totally does).

So actually the reality is, pretty much like all relationships, it’s complicated!

For a start its harder for him than it is for me! Take this very simple situation as an example . . We are at the cinema, it’s the weekend, I’ve been really good with food all week. Ive trained hard and eaten really well. We pay for our tickets and then I think maybe I want some ice cream. So I say . .

“should I get some ice cream?”

It’s an innocent enough question! But for Danny this is a potential minefield. What he has no idea about is whether I want him to respond to that as my boyfriend or my coach. If he says ‘Yes, if you want some, get some!’ Then he knows he is going to get into that whole anxious ridden conversation with me about how it will affect my body, and then I start to worry that he will question my commitment. I also then don’t really get to complain about not losing body fat. Or maybe I question whether he is really that committed to coaching me.

If he says ‘no, it doesn’t fit in your macros and will baisically ruin your day’ then I question why he doesn’t love me the way I am, if he is so desperate to keep me in shape that I can’t eat ice cream.

He basically just can’t win! Which probably isn’t that disimilar to most men.

We realised pretty quick that if I don’t specify which role I want him to be in when we talk, it can get a bit tricky. And sometimes even when I think I want coach Danny, I still go nuts if he doesn’t answer like boyfriend Danny, especially if I’m a hormonal mess. It’s pretty hard for him to keep up. Thankfully eighteen months in, I’m educated and confident enough in the training and nutrition now to not have to ask for his advice so much, because if I want to get into better shape, I know what I need to do (and it doesn’t involve ice cream!).

In reality he doesn’t control what I eat on a day to day basis, which is probably a good thing (although some days I wish he would!)  As my coach, before he was my boyfriend, if he said ‘jump’ I would say ‘how high’ that’s how I got into such amazing shape. Now I will ask his advice and when I get it, I usually reply with a ‘yeah but . . .’

Then there is the constant talk of exercise and nutrition in our house. Weight lifting is still my main hobby, and so I want to talk about it all the time. But it’s Danny’s job, and he talks about it and thinks about it all day. So it’s not rocket science to understand that he might not want to answer all my questions and have me going on about it all the time (even though given the chance, it’s all I’d talk about!) So I’ve had to learn to pick my moments!

Despite all that, the reason we work so well is because the things that make us tick are baisically the same. We are both passionate about being able to make a difference to people. We value the same things, we have loads of fun and we both totally buzz off being involved in Titan, and seeing the amazing progress of all our fellow Titans. Life can be really busy and chaotic, and in the middle of it all we are always having an amazing time. I feel really lucky to be able to share what I love with someone and have them totally understand how it feels.

So for any of you out there thinking that having your coach live with you full time would be really great, then in the main part I would agree, the benefits definitely outweigh the challenges, at least for me anyway!