My name’s Lara and I’m a freelance writer, yoga teacher and mental health advocate. I moved to London almost two years to study a Masters in Arts and Lifestyle Journalism at University of Arts London.
Whilst many experience loneliness moving to the city, I would say I started experiencing loneliness around the age of 13.
Around this time my identical twin sister got diagnosed with a severe eating disorder – Anorexia Nervosa – and spent the next seven years in and out of psychiatric units around the UK.
Although it seems obvious to me now, at the time, I didn’t understand why this affected me so much. But I’ve realised through plenty of therapy, that this was hugely traumatic for 13-year old me.
“Losing” my other half to a deadly mental health illness left me feeling abandoned, confused and like I couldn’t relate to others my age, triggering immense loneliness through my teenage years. All I wanted was my twin sister, who was also my best friend back and as I got older, my confusion turned to anger.
I ended up resenting my sister for what she was putting our family through and my parents for “neglecting” me and my siblings. In retaliation to my hostile feelings, I became what I now know as “hyper-independent” – adopting the mindset that “I didn’t need anyone anyway”.
I flew off to The States for months at a time to escape my life back home and went to uni as far away from home as possible, simply to prove a point. But underneath that angry, hard exterior, was an extremely lonely and vulnerable teenager – who didn’t know how to process her feelings. I was in survival mode, coping the only way I knew how with the resources I had.
Fast forward to my early twenties, my loneliness was heightened by grief. At twenty-two, right at the start of the first pandemic, my dad was given a six-month cancer prognosis and died in September 2020. Needless to say, experiencing such a quick loss at such a young age made me feel even more disconnected from others my age.
Today, as I reach my mid-twenties, it’s “milestone moments” – like graduations, or the thought of a wedding or having children – that intensify my feelings of loneliness.
However, perhaps the loneliest part of losing my dad so young is how others now walk on eggshells on special occasions like these; as if ignoring the topic of grief completely would magically mean that it doesn’t hurt as much (I wish!).
Fortunately, my response to my dad dying has ultimately been positive, and life-changing.
My strong-willed stance on the fact that the taboo around grief and loss NEEDS to change has given me direction in life. I would say I’ve experienced “post-traumatic growth” – a huge shift in my emotional maturity, resilience and sense of purpose.
Having spent the previous ten or so years reacting to the trauma of my sister’s illness in a way that made me feel like a victim; with this second major trauma, I decided to respond to the deep pain of losing my dad in a way that would help others feel less alone.
During the second COVID lockdown, I spent every waking minute on a mission to self-publish guided grief journal, From Prognosis to Peace: Navigating Grief through Gratitude, Discovery and Healing.
This book was the catalyst for so many positive things in my life in the mental health and writing space – which, ultimately, has fuelled a deeper sense of purpose as I live in alignment with my values.
From volunteering with St. Barnabas Hospice to help fundraise £22,661 for families of people in end-of-life care in 2022, to completing my MA back in December; through this impassioned sense of purpose, I have found that my feelings of loneliness have become more transient over time.
Of course, there are days, weeks or even months at a time where I feel lonely; like after going through a super tough break-up at the beginning of this year. But I can catch myself much better now. I can look at my feelings more objectively and use them to prioritise certain areas of my life.
For example, as a natural introvert with social anxiety, I have a habit of becoming a bit of a “hermit”. It takes a lot of energy for me to put myself out there and step out of my comfort zone socially.
During periods of loneliness, the last thing I naturally want to do is go to a party or even an intimate coffee with a friend. Now, if a friend asks me for a coffee, instead of making up a stupid excuse, I use my feelings of loneliness as a way to connect with those who love me on a deeper level. I let myself be vulnerable, instead of keeping my feelings to myself.
To support others who are now struggling with loneliness, I founded The Lonely (Less) Club – an online community, centred around the loneliness epidemic amongst young people in the UK.
This an issue I’ve been immensely passionate about raising awareness for ever since, designed to help others feel less alone through sharing my experience, insights and practical tools I use to combat loneliness.
I’ve learned through building this community over the last year, just how important it is to share our “messy” feelings, and that it is OK to show up as imperfect.
Whilst it takes bravery to share these things, given the taboo that unfairly exists around loneliness – this courageous act of sharing not only makes you feel more connected to others but, most importantly, feel more connected to yourself.
Best of all, I’ve learned that the simple act of sharing is one of the most powerful antidotes to loneliness itself. A lonely feeling shared truly is a lonely feeling halved.
