Dear Roe,
I’m a 48-year-old, happily married man with teenage children. I was bullied in school and have always struggled to make and keep friends. When the girls were smaller and involved in sports and activities I thought I was friends with some of the other fathers, but as the girls grew older and their friendship groups changed it became clear that my friendships with their fathers was only because of our children’s shared activities. I thought I had made my peace with not having many friends as I was busy with married life, career and two young children, but I realise as I get older that it really does bother me. I feel envious then sad when I see groups of lads going out to the pub. I do have a couple acquaintances that I meet up with every now and then, but to be honest I know they are not real friends. The effort is always on my part, the conversation is always about them and I always end up paying for everything. I know this is not a good situation but in the absence of anything else I’m happy to put up with it. It seems like everyone I know has really solid groups of friends except me and I often feel sorry for myself, which I know is not good. I’ve spoken to my wife and she’s quick to point out what she sees as my good points, and while I appreciate this, it doesn’t change anything. I’m involved locally with different sport and social organisations and I always make an effort to fit in and find common ground with people, but I worry this is now coming across as desperate. Should I just be happy and grateful with all that’s good in my life, and resign myself to the fact that this is just the way it is, or do you have any suggestions?
I need to stress that you are not alone in this situation. Research from Core shows that in Ireland, three in five adults experience loneliness, and these levels are highest among women aged 18-29 and men age 30-44. In the US, the former surgeon general Vivek Murthy declared loneliness a public health crisis. Headlines may frame this as a particularly male phenomenon, but it impacts people of all ages and genders. But research has shown that as straight men get older, they aren’t socialised to initiate friendships, share emotionally or seek help when needed, meaning their social lives can shrink or feel emotionally unfulfilling.
So you’re not alone, and that’s important to remember. Loneliness or feeling like you don’t have enough friends can come with a sense of shame, a feeling that everyone else has a “normal” social life, so there must be something wrong with you. This simply isn’t true. Society is structured so that making and maintaining friendships is increasingly difficult – freelance work and the gig economy means many people don’t have regular colleagues to make friends with; the housing, cost of living and childcare crises mean people live far away from their social circle while having less money and free time to socialise; and the decimation of “third spaces” where people can hang out together means there are fewer opportunities for community building. Loneliness is so often a personal response to structural problems.
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The established groups you envy are often based around friendships made at school, and many adults don’t have that for all sorts of reasons – they also didn’t meet their people in school, people moved away, the demands of life impacted them and now they feel bereft of a group too. Trust me, you’re not alone.
What’s wonderful is that you’re really engaged in your community and different organisations, and I want to applaud that. I also want to point out the nature of loneliness itself; even though you seemingly have an active social life, it doesn’t feel emotionally fulfilling – and this is what loneliness is. It arises when we feel a chasm between the social connections we have and the ones we long for. It’s not about being alone, but feeling a lack of intimacy, of being known, of feeling emotionally close to others. It sounds like what you’re hungry for is deeper friendships, and to feel known and valued. We all do.
I do want to address your history and how it may be colouring issues. You mention you were bullied in school and I’m so sorry you had to go through that. What’s difficult is how these formative experiences can continue to impact us as adults. Bullying or abuse can alter our understanding of ourselves. Instead of blaming the bully, we blame ourselves, believing that somehow their actions reflected some fundamental truth about us; that we are unworthy, unlovable, that we’re not really liked or valued. When left unchecked, these beliefs can seep into not only our understanding of ourselves, but into all our relationships. When people offer us affection or friendship, we don’t trust it, assuming it’s pity or merely tolerance. Or we seek out people to confirm our beliefs, ignoring the friendship offered by genuine people and gravitating towards those who continue to make us feel small.
When you say that your attempts to socialise are coming across as desperate and you continue to pay for all your outings with certain people, I wonder if this is what is happening. Are you allowing your insecurities and self-doubt to cloud perfectly normal, lovely social interactions? And are you either investing in people who don’t make you feel wanted, or indeed just assuming they’ll only meet up if you pay?
Talking to a therapist even for a few sessions might help you process what happened to you as a child, to become aware of how it’s impacting you now and give you some tools to gain some self-confidence. This could all help you feel more comfortable trying to expand your social circle or deepen the connections you already have.
Practically, there are a few things to try. The organisations you’re involved in sound great but not all spaces or activities give room for deeper conversation, and the routine or nature of these spaces might be inherently limiting. Think about other activities you can try where there’s room for shared vulnerability, more conversation or collaboration – a regular class, a volunteering project, a book or run club, a Ciorcal Cainte, or even a multi-day retreat. Meetup and Eventbrite have listings for all kinds of group events, clubs and activities. Men’s Sheds are a wonderful organisation dedicated to fostering connection between men, and they have sheds all over the country.
[ ‘In the loneliest country in Europe, I’ve started chatting to strangers’Opens in new window ]
Your wife sounds supportive, so enlist her help – she could join you in a regular class, or arrange some dinners with couples she knows so you can either meet some more men your age or deepen your connection with pre-existing acquaintances. Building a foundation in a setting with other couples first can make it easier to then suggest going for a run or a pint.
Think of the things in life you want to try, and be the person who initiates – host a barbecue, suggest going for a swim or a film. Think of the people in your life who you haven’t tried to socialise with yet and initiate a conversation. Remember that in reaching out to the world, you may just be a lifeline for someone who currently feels alone like you. Your people are out there and hoping to find you. The best of luck.
