The Rise of the “I Have No Friends” Epidemic

Why do we feel lonelier than ever, and what to do about it?

Planning my wedding has been one of the worst times of my life.

We postponed it five times due to the pandemic. We argued with many family members. We had to change the venue a few weeks before the final date. (Thanks inflation!)

The worst, though, was creating the guest list.

It forced me to acknowledge a truth I intuitively knew but had always ignored: I have no friends — at least, not in the sense most of us expect our friends to be. An extension of our families. Keepers of our darkest secrets. The 2 AM call keeping us from making stupid mistakes.

Perhaps if I hadn’t moved abroad, my childhood girlfriends would’ve been like Rachel and Phoebe when Monica got married. But after half a decade without seeing each other, most didn’t even ask after the preparations.

They didn’t care.

And my social circle in Spain isn’t much better. Though I’ve been living here for five years and am now married to a local, I mostly have acquaintances: my husband’s family and friends or some people I used to know before moving here.

As a solopreneur, the odds of hitting it off with a coworker are nonexistent. Worse, since I’m an introvert, I love my alone time. Crowds deplete me, so I choose a quiet social life, and I numb the loneliness I sometimes feel with a cozy book or movie.

But planning the wedding forced me to see.

And because of the unrealistic expectations I’ve always had about what friendship should be, I felt inadequate and unlovable. Ashamed.

It’s no exaggeration to say that the day after the wedding will forever be one of the happiest of my life. And unfortunately, not only for what that meant for my husband and me.

That day was the day I could go back to ignoring my truth: I have no friends.

Are We Alone in Feeling lonely?

For people in my situation, thinking about “friends” is extremely uncomfortable. Guilt, sadness, and especially shame create a tightness in our guts that’s impossible to ignore.

The worst part, though, is that we think we’re the only ones struggling.

We assume we’re defective, the odd one out. So we try to hide it from the world, and especially ourselves.

But we’re not alone in feeling lonely.

The first time I came across this truth was on Youtube. After watching a video of a woman explaining how she had no friends —based on what she expected friends to be — I felt seen. I understood her pain. Her embarrassment. Her longing. Her anxiety.

And I wasn’t the only one.

To date, the video has had more than half a million views and received almost ten thousand comments from people who can relate. People whose profiles tell a story of popularity and giddy joy, a pretense. Turns out, even those who seem to have it all are struggling.

If Youtube is any indication, this “I have no friends” phenomenon is affecting millions of people. A quick search on the platform shows video after video detailing the excruciating pain of loneliness mixed with shame.

Perhaps I’m “friendless”, but I’m not alone in my loneliness. My situation is a modern trend. Or, more accurately, an epidemic.

Who’s To Blame?

According to recent research, loneliness in young adults is on the rise. Many people feel out of step with the world, disconnected. Many feel incapable of creating meaningful relationships.

But why do we feel this way? Who’s to blame?

After watching countless videos of people sharing their feelings and my own experience, I’d say there are three main culprits.

Culprit #1: Traditional Media

One of the biggest reasons we feel friendless is that we’ve been misled. It’s impossible not to have unrealistic expectations of what friends should be like when we’ve grown up watching shows like “Friends”, “How I Met Your Mother”, “Sex & the City”… you get my point.

In them, we see tight-knit groups of friends who do everything together. They meet every day. They tell each other everything, even the most intimate details of their sex lives.

On the other hand, we have shows like “The Office” or “Suits” that bombard us with the idea that our coworkers should be like family.

Now, I’m not saying these situations can’t be real. Some people meet with friends every day. Others are really close with their colleagues. But I’d argue that most of us would not invite our coworkers to our wedding, or that even if we adore our friends, we simply don’t have the time to hang out regularly. More so if we live in different cities.

Though we know these shows are fiction, they still affect our worldview. They create insane standards that make us feel inadequate, even if the way we handle our friendships is the most normal thing in the world.

Culprit #2: Social Media

“I’m a terrible friend,” my husband told me the other day.

He was scrolling through Instagram when he saw a picture of his friends at a bar. Work had made it impossible for my husband to attend.

“They will forget about me,” he went on, a frown creasing his forehead. He groaned. “They must hate me.”

The funny thing is that my husband isn’t the only one in his group who feels that way. When he shared how awful he felt about missing out on so many plans, most of his friends said they could relate.

Turns out, most of my husband’s friends feel like they’re shitty friends, an example of social media at its finest. Why?

Simple.

Most people only post when they’re out socializing or doing something extraordinary, creating a sense that going out is the rule and not the exception. And though we know we shouldn’t compare our lives with the highlight reels of others, our emotions often betray us, especially when it’s coupled with unrealistic expectations.

Worse, unhealthy comparisons aren’t the only downside of social media. It has also negatively changed the way we socialize.

Before, we called or met our friends when we wanted to chat. Now, we send DMs. If 93% of communication is non-verbal (body language and varying tones of speech), we’re missing out on a lot.

Before, our friends were our go-to solution when we were bored and had spare time. Now, we consume content.

Before, we knew worthwhile things like friendships took time and effort. Now, we live in the age of instant gratification. We’ve forgotten that friendships need work. In fact, according to two recent studies, it takes between 40 and 60 hours to form a casual friendship, 80–100 hours to transition to being a friend, and more than 200 hours together to become good friends, which leads me to the final culprit.

Culprit #3: Us

Sometimes, the reason we have no friends is out of our control.

When my sister was eighteen, her friends cut her off from their group, a wound that continues to fester. Even now, more than a decade later, my sister has trust issues that have hurt her chances of building new friendships. She’s been dealt a bad hand.

However, in many cases, the ones keeping us from building new relationships are ourselves.

How many of us haven’t avoided going out and meeting new people because we hate crowds? How many of us have neglected our loved ones because we’re too busy? How many of us have put love over friendship?

“Am I a good friend?”

Sometimes the answer is no.

So… What Now?

Learning about people’s friendship struggles has been eye-opening. It has helped me feel less inadequate and more forgiving of myself. Weird as it may be, knowing I’m not alone in being alone is comforting.

Most importantly, though, is that it’s allowed me to do one thing I believe can help soften the “I have no friends” epidemic: redefine the idea of friendship.

Before, friendship to me meant a group of people with whom you meet or regularly call to chat about your deepest problems (something I was fortunate to have growing up). But this idea doesn’t fit my specific needs anymore. Not to mention how unrealistic it is for most of us.

Why?

For two reasons.

First, needing a lot of friends is a misconception. According to a 2020 study, “having three to five close friends is enough to feel fulfilled.” Even one is a net positive. So though there are more extroverted people out there who need lots of social connection, there are others like me who don’t.

On the other hand, what a “close friend” looks like can also vary depending on the person.

True, I haven’t seen most of my childhood friends in years, and we don’t talk regularly. But every few months we hop on long-ass calls and catch up on everything that’s been going on. Though we’re not there for each other every week, we love each other. They may not have asked after the wedding’s preparations, but they watched the ceremony through Zoom, and some even made it.

Perhaps a more accurate portrayal of modern “close” friendship might simply be going months on end without talking and then having a long conversation. After all, we’re all busy. We all have jobs, families, and houses to take care of. So maybe it’s time we stop believing friendship has to be an intense affair like we’ve seen on shows or social media.

By changing this definition, I’ve realized that, though there are certain things I could do to be more social (call my loved ones more, be more proactive when meeting new people), I do have friends.

It’s just different from what I thought it would be.

And that’s OK.

If you enjoyed this story and would love to read more like them, you can sign up to become a Medium member. If you use this link, I’ll also receive a tiny commission at no extra cost to you. Thanks!