Add Silicon Canals to your Google News feed. ![]()
Loneliness has this sneaky way of making you feel like you’re the only one experiencing it, doesn’t it?
I’ll admit something: There have been nights when I’ve scrolled through my contacts, realizing I had no one I felt comfortable calling just to talk.
Not because I don’t know people, but because somewhere along the way, I’d built walls without even realizing it.
If you’re reading this, chances are you know that hollow feeling too.
The one that sits heavy in your chest even when you’re surrounded by people. But here’s what I’ve learned: Sometimes we’re unknowingly creating our own isolation through behaviors we don’t even recognize as problematic.
Psychology research has uncovered some surprising patterns in people who struggle with chronic loneliness. And honestly? When I first read about these behaviors, I saw myself in way too many of them.
1) Treating connections like transactions
Remember when making friends was as simple as sharing your snacks at recess? Somewhere along the line, many of us started approaching relationships like business deals.
We network instead of connect. We calculate what we might gain from knowing someone.
A friend once watched me on a first date and later said, “You know you were basically conducting a job interview, right?”
She was right. I’d spent the entire evening gathering data points instead of actually getting to know the person sitting across from me.
Questions about career goals, five-year plans, relationship history. Zero questions about what made them laugh or what kept them up at night with excitement.
Research published in Psychology Today shows that the quality of our connections matters far more than quantity.
When we approach relationships transactionally, we might accumulate contacts, but we miss out on the vulnerability and authenticity that create real bonds.
2) Using busyness as armor
“Sorry, I’m swamped with work.”
“Can’t make it, deadline tomorrow.”
“Maybe when things slow down.”
Sound familiar? For most of my twenties, I wore my packed schedule like a badge of honor. Being busy meant being important, valuable, needed.
What it really meant was being protected from the scary prospect of genuine connection.
When we’re constantly “too busy,” we’re sending a message that relationships aren’t a priority. But more than that, we’re hiding.
Busyness becomes our excuse to avoid the vulnerability that real friendships require.
3) Waiting for others to make the first move
How many times have you thought, “If they wanted to hang out, they’d reach out”?
This passive approach to relationships is like sitting in a room full of people, all waiting for someone else to speak first.
I lost my best friend from college this way. Not to a fight or dramatic falling out, but to a slow drift where both of us waited for the other to make the effort.
Years of shared history couldn’t survive months of mutual silence. The harsh truth? Friendships require maintenance, not just memories.
4) Oversharing or undersharing
Finding the right balance of vulnerability is tricky. Some of us dump our entire emotional history on someone we just met, overwhelming them with intensity.
Others keep everything surface level, never letting anyone see past the carefully curated exterior.
Both extremes push people away. Oversharing can feel like emotional dumping, making others feel like unpaid therapists. Undersharing keeps relationships stuck in small talk purgatory.
According to the American Psychological Association, healthy relationships develop through gradual, reciprocal self-disclosure.
5) Comparing your insides to everyone else’s outsides
Scroll through social media and everyone seems to be living their best life with their ride-or-die friend groups. Meanwhile, you’re eating cereal for dinner and wondering if anyone would notice if you disappeared for a week.
This comparison trap makes us feel uniquely broken. We assume everyone else has figured out the secret to connection while we’re fundamentally flawed.
But those highlight reels don’t show the lonely Sunday afternoons or the anxiety before social events that many people experience.
6) Perfectionism in relationships
Do you find yourself canceling plans because your apartment isn’t clean enough?
Avoiding reaching out because you don’t have the perfect thing to say? Declining invitations because you’re not in the “right” headspace?
Perfectionism kills spontaneity, and spontaneity is where real connections often bloom. When we wait for ideal conditions, we miss out on the messy, imperfect moments that actually bring people together.
7) Masking anxiety with excessive preparation
Before social events, I used to prepare conversation topics like I was studying for an exam. Questions to ask, stories to tell, exit strategies if things got awkward.
I thought I was being responsible, but really I was armoring up against genuine interaction.
People would tell me I seemed so confident and prepared. They had no idea that my “confidence” was actually carefully rehearsed anxiety management.
This overpreparation kept me in performance mode rather than connection mode.
Studies have shown that authentic self-expression is crucial for forming meaningful relationships, but anxiety often drives us toward scripted interactions instead.
8) Believing vulnerability equals weakness
Somewhere along the way, many of us learned that needing others makes us weak. That asking for help is a burden. That showing emotion is unprofessional or too much.
But vulnerability is actually the birthplace of connection. When we let others see our struggles, fears, and imperfections, we give them permission to do the same.
Those moments of shared humanity are where loneliness starts to dissolve.
Final thoughts
Recognizing these patterns in myself wasn’t comfortable. It meant acknowledging that my loneliness wasn’t just happening to me; I was actively, if unconsciously, participating in it.
But that recognition also meant I had power to change things.
Small shifts make a difference. Texting first without keeping score. Saying yes to invitations even when my apartment’s a mess. Letting conversations flow instead of directing them.
These aren’t grand gestures, but they’re the building blocks of connection.
If you see yourself in these behaviors, you’re not broken. You’re human, trying to protect yourself in a world that often feels unsafe for genuine connection.
But maybe, just maybe, it’s time to lower some of those defenses and see who might be waiting on the other side.




















