Alone in a crowded world: Loneliness and rootlessness
Loneliness is something that comes up in therapy far more often than people might expect. It’s rarely the presenting issue. Clients don’t usually come in and say, “I feel lonely.” More often, it shows up subtly – through restlessness, a sense of disconnection, a loss of meaning, or an underlying feeling that something is missing, but they can’t quite put their finger on what.

Is it loneliness, or is something deeper going on?
This kind of loneliness isn’t just about being alone. It’s more than the absence of company. It’s a quieter, deeper experience – often a kind of rootlessness. A loss of belonging. Not just to other people, but to places, to natural rhythms, to a sense of home in the world, to ourselves.
What is rootlessness, and why does it matter?
Rootlessness is the feeling of drifting through life without something steady to hold onto. It can happen when we’ve moved often, changed jobs frequently, or adapted ourselves too many times to fit into new roles, relationships, or expectations. Over time, we can lose track of what we truly want or need, let alone what helps us feel grounded, alive, and whole.
In the UK, this kind of experience isn’t often spoken about. Our culture tends to value independence, achievement, and self-sufficiency. We move for opportunity, power through discomfort, and keep going even when something inside us feels quietly off. There can be a kind of stoicism, a belief that it’s weak to name this disconnection or admit we’re struggling.
But in therapy, this silence often starts to lift. And we begin to see that what someone is carrying isn’t a personal failure – it’s often a very natural response to a culture that encourages productivity, but not presence; mobility, but not rootedness.
Loneliness isn’t always about being alone
When we think of loneliness, we often picture someone who is isolated, without friends or companionship. And for some people, this is exactly the case. Life has become consumed by work or caregiving, and relationships have gradually slipped away. In these situations, loneliness may stem from a genuine lack of connection with others – a longing for closeness, friendship, or community.
But for many others, loneliness doesn’t come from the outside. It’s not about how many people are in your life. It’s about how seen you feel. How known. How much of you is allowed to show up in your relationships. You might be surrounded by others, going to social events, chatting regularly, and still feel deeply alone.
That’s because the loneliest place we can be is not necessarily on our own – it’s when we’ve lost connection to ourselves. When we’ve become so used to performing a version of ourselves that we no longer know what’s true. When we’ve buried our needs or feelings to the point that even we can’t hear them anymore.
Where does your loneliness come from?
Understanding the source of your loneliness is the first step in beginning to respond to it with care and clarity. Sometimes, it’s about recognising that we’ve neglected the relational side of life – perhaps investing all our energy in work, achievement, or caregiving. Other times, the relationships are there, but we don’t feel able to meet them from a place of authenticity or depth.
These two roots of loneliness – outer and inner – require different responses. And often, they overlap.
The first step: Reconnection begins within
Whatever the cause, one thing is clear: the path out of loneliness often begins not with “fixing” our outer world, but with restoring relationships to our inner world.
This doesn’t mean blaming ourselves for feeling lonely; it means gently turning toward ourselves with curiosity. Beginning to notice what we’re feeling, what we’re needing, what we’ve silenced or overridden in the name of getting through the day.
Coming home to ourselves might look like:
- Spending a few quiet minutes each day noticing how you feel, without trying to change it.
- Writing freely in a journal about what’s been stirring beneath the surface.
- Doing something small that brings you joy or helps you feel more like you.
- Asking yourself, “What do I need today, not just to function, but to feel alive?”
Journaling prompts to explore your loneliness
If you’re unsure where to begin, these gentle prompts can help you explore the nature of your loneliness with openness and compassion:
- Am I longing for a deeper connection with others, or with myself? Or both?
- Have I been neglecting friendships or community? If so, is that something I want to change?
- Do I feel able to be my full self in my relationships? If not, what parts of me are left out?
- What would it mean to start coming home to myself – gently, without judgement?
You don’t need to reach a conclusion right away. These questions are an invitation into a relationship with your own truth, your own heart, your own quiet wisdom.
What if loneliness is a doorway?
Rather than seeing loneliness as something to get rid of, we can begin to relate to it differently. Sometimes, it’s actually an invitation. A message from a deeper part of us saying: You’re ready for something more true. Something more grounded. Something more real.
When we give ourselves the space to feel into that message, whether on our own or in the company of a therapist, it becomes possible to ask new questions:
- What kind of life truly supports me?
- Where do I feel most at home?
- What rhythms, places, or people help me return to myself?
When might therapy be helpful?
Therapy can offer a space where these questions are welcomed, without pressure to fix or figure things out immediately. It’s a place to explore what’s missing, not just socially but existentially. To name the ache, the disconnection, and to begin slowly imagining what reconnection might look like – not just to others, but to life, to self, to meaning.
We don’t need to rush this process. Often, simply being witnessed in our experience of loneliness is healing in itself.
Moving from rootlessness to rootedness
There’s no one-size-fits-all solution. But small, steady shifts can begin to restore a sense of rootedness. This might include:
- Spending more time in nature or with the same patch of ground.
- Returning to creative practices you used to love.
- Making space to rest and feel without distraction.
- Reaching out to someone with honesty about how you’re really doing.
- Letting yourself long for something, even if you don’t yet know what it is.
Loneliness can feel like the absence of something, but it may also be the beginning of something. A threshold. A call. A quiet signpost pointing toward what matters most.
You don’t have to navigate it alone.
