Fear of Loneliness’ Impact on Therapeutic Practice
Loneliness. It’s a quiet fear that lives in all of us, shaping our choices in ways we don’t always realize. For individuals with neurodivergence, whether that falls under a specific category like ADHD or the autism spectrum, this fear left unchecked tends to take center stage as the basis of many therapeutic practices.
Will I have friends? Will I be accepted? And for parents of children with disabilities, it might sound more like this: Will my child ever have close relationships, get invited to birthday parties, or even get married?
What’s to Fear?
As a speech-language pathologist, I see this fear daily in my practice. As part of my discipline, I provide navigation and learning of social skills, this type of therapy often centers on teaching ways to make friends, maintain friendships, and navigate conversations. These programs are valuable for learning the unspoken rules of social interaction but can come at a cost. Many students end up masking and learning how to adeptly hide their true selves to fit into a specific social scenario. While those surface-level skills can help someone navigate social situations such as landing an interview or being able to initiate a new dating relationship, they don’t solve the deeper problem.
Loneliness isn’t just a disability issue; it’s a human one. The United States Surgeon General included a specific address on the problem of loneliness feelings in this country in the 2023 record. According to his report, approximately half of U.S. adults report experiencing loneliness, with some of the highest rates among young adults. This statistic doesn’t even scratch the surface of the impact loneliness has on individuals within the disability community. As social beings, humans are hardwired to seek connection. Our ancestors depended on their tribes for survival. Even now, the thought of being ostracized can trigger a deep sense of panic. So, our desire to fend off the impact of loneliness through social skills training is coming from a very well-meaning intention. Creating therapy models driven by the fear of loneliness is not a weakness; it’s innate biology.
Yet, for many of my clients, the solution to this fear isn’t found in more therapy techniques or another set of strategies to, “fit in.”
Instead, it lies in something far more profound, learning to love and accept ourselves as we are.
The Myth of the Magical Solution
There’s an unstated but pervasive belief, especially in the disability community, that the right therapy will fix everything. If I can just make someone sound more typical or act more “normal,” their problems will disappear. This mindset comes from a place of love and hope, but it overlooks the deeper truth, no amount of external change can fill the internal void that the feeling of loneliness creates.
Whether it’s a child with autism learning social cues or an adult who stutters worrying about being understood, the deeper issue is always the same. The real question isn’t, “How can I sound more normal?”
It’s, “Am I enough as I am?”
The Power of a “Me Party”
Growing up in a house isolated in the woods of Kentucky, I didn’t have the luxury of blending into a crowd. Instead, I had to learn to be at peace with myself and my thoughts. As a child, this was a gift I didn’t fully appreciate. Only now do I understand how much strength and clarity those moments of solitude gave me. They taught me how to find joy in my own company, and how to value my interests without the need for external validation. What changed wasn’t the world around me, it was my perspective. I came to understand that the only way to truly overcome loneliness was to embrace myself fully. I had to learn to enjoy my own company, to throw what I now call a, “me party.”
A critical part of this self-love journey is understanding what brings you joy. It might sound simple, but it’s surprisingly rare. People often adopt the preferences of others in the quest to fit in or be popular and years pass without truly knowing who you are on the inside and what you like. True joy comes from embracing what lights you up inside. That’s why I encourage my clients to take a joy inventory. Knowing what you like isn’t just a step toward self-love, it’s the foundation of it. We talk about the specifics by senses:
What tastes bring you joy?
What are your comfort foods? What is your favorite food?
What textures that you touch bring you joy?
Do you have a favorite blanket or favorite animal you like to pet?
Specific sounds?
Are there sounds that bring you a great memory like jingle bells or coffee brewing?
Sights?
Do you like the light at certain times of the day? Do you have a favorite background?
Hobbies, rituals, or self-care activities?
Do you walk somewhere daily that brings you joy? Do you like baths?
Specific Places?
The park, the ocean, or even your favorite chair? A certain restaurant?
Certain People?
Friends, family, and any people past and present that you connect with?
And as we work through this list, I’m looking for a specific glimmer in their eyes, a far-off look, or relaxed body language. The sigh that lets me know, “Yep, that’s the place,” that brings you joy and I make a note of that to use in the future to help them remember to fill their cup up with these experiences as a priority or to remind them of when they are in fear mode. As Maya Angelou once said,
“We all should know that diversity makes for a rich tapestry, and we must understand that all the threads of the tapestry are equal in value no matter their color.”
The world doesn’t need more of the same. It needs exceptional individuals who aren’t afraid to be different, and who embrace their unique threads in the tapestry of humanity.
The Gift of Vulnerability
One of the most profound lessons I’ve learned comes from working with individuals whose disabilities are more visible. An individual with Down Syndrome or an individual who shows their scars on the outside faces undeniable challenges, but often so does their resilience. They confront the fear of rejection head-on, and in doing so, they become master teachers of authenticity. These individuals remind us that life isn’t about hiding or pretending; it’s about showing up as we are. Their courage inspires me to ask my students, and myself the hard questions about self-worth and acceptance.
Often, I’m guiding my students to dive deep into feelings that the adults around them haven’t even touched. The truth is, every interaction I’ve had with my students has been a lesson for me. They are my greatest teachers, showing me how to live more authentically and reminding me that none of our encounters are accidental.
A Mission of Connection
My mission is to help others embrace this authenticity, no matter their ability level. Whether you’re navigating the complexities of disability, wrestling with the fear of loneliness, or simply searching for a deeper connection, know this: you are enough.
The fear of being alone may never fully go away, but it doesn’t have to define any of us. By loving ourselves and celebrating who we are, we can move from fear to friendship, starting with the most important relationship of all: the one we have with ourselves. So, let’s stop chasing perfection. Let’s stop masking and hiding. Let’s step into the joy of being real. Together, we can create a world where connection isn’t about fitting in, but about showing up exactly as we are.