Not alone, but lonely
Loneliness to me is an odd concept that in hindsight I know really affected my life, but at the time I struggled to grasp.
Because there’s no way I could be lonely, right? I was very happily married, most of my family lived within a 5 minute walk of my doorstep, socialised with my neighbours often, had fantastic colleagues I loved spending my days with, and even some online friends I’d chat to all the time.
So definitely not lonely. And yet, reflecting back, I really was. Deeply. And it took me to some very dark places.
I think one of the main reasons was that, although I was surrounded by people, I was missing the people who brought the me out of myself.
The people I did have around me were amazing. They remain important to my life, and I still love them all. But they weren’t people with whom I necessarily shared fundamental experiences, or identity, with. Family is family, neighbours are just luck, as are colleagues. And I did have pretty good luck with them all - but still had a huge void that was drawing life out of me. That void was supposed to be filled with people who I connect with on a very personal level. Not out of convenience, or situation, but because we shared something that lives deep within.
Back in Yorkshire, I had no gay friends. Social events and attractions were safe and generic, and certainly not queer. I couldn’t play football because the people who made up local teams were not the sort of people I felt safe or myself around. And I didn’t even have any friends I could watch football with, for similar reasons. I was social occasionally, but rarely did I go out of my way to be social.
I had people around me, but not people who enabled me to engage with parts of my identity that were important to me.
After a particularly difficult mental health challenge, I knew I had to make big changes. I threw myself into things. I took risks. I leaped out of my comfort zone. I changed jobs. I moved my whole life from Yorkshire to Manchester. I joined an LGBT football team. I engaged with queer culture. I found incredible people who are now a huge part of my life. My every day was, very quickly, filled with intense joy because I was finally sharing it with the people who started to fill that void.
And as well as finding other people, I found myself. These were parts of myself that I hadn’t properly explored before. Ever. And now I’m doing that, on a huge scale. That has been thrilling. It has been validating. It has been emotional. It has been… almost educational. And it’s still happening — I’m still finding out what makes me who I am. But for the first time in my 32 years on earth, I feel like I’m finally able to be authentic to myself.
Particularly my queer identity. I think looking back that although I’ve been in a relationship with a man for 10 years, my queer identity had never been allowed to be unleashed. Meeting people with whom I have those shared experiences, that common identity, who have given me the safety and freedom to really explore that part of me has been genuinely so life-changing to me.
I wasn’t just lonely because I was missing people around me. I was also lonely because I was missing ME.
