1. A misunderstanding of the different types of loneliness

In my opinion, loneliness is a much more complex feeling that people first give it credit for. The equation seems simple, if you are feeling lonely, you need to be around more people. How many times, however, have I heard someone saying that they feel even more lonely while out with friends? Or while living with their partner? How many people have insisted that they “shouldn’t feel lonely,” because of this or that reason? More often than not making lists of the relationships they have in their life, hurting themselves further with the idea that they should be grateful, instead of complaining. Ari, who has lived his whole adult life in the city, who has easy access to his family in the suburbs, who plays dodgeball every Monday night and who is still connected with his high school and university friends, is actually a champion of this. He seems to be constantly at the edge of apologizing for his presence in the group. When breaking the ice on the first week of the program, he even mentioned that he should stop complaining and focus on the people he has in his life, instead of on the feeling that something is missing. 

Ari is not alone in this situation. Loneliness seems to affect people regardless of their social standing. If guys who seem to “have it all” are feeling loneliness, what chances does it leave to people with lower social skills? Who are newcomers? Who are facing language and cultural barriers? How is it that people with vastly different lives are still faced with that same feeling of loneliness? 

While trying to answer these questions, I came to the conclusion that there had to be different types of loneliness. Furthermore, it seems like if even just one of those types is unsatisfied, no matter what is happening in the other spheres, someone could still suffer from loneliness. The simplest example of this would be to think of a man who is hoping to find a romantic connection, like Stephen and his long nights spent on dating apps. No matter how many friends, family members, supporting fellows from the NA program he attends, drugs, parties, or hook ups he manages to fit in his life, his need for romance is not feeling satisfied. Therefore, he still endures a deep sense of loneliness. 

I counted six different types of loneliness: physical loneliness, romantic loneliness, fellowship loneliness, peripheral loneliness, belonging loneliness and boredom. While this last one operates a little bit differently, I believe it is essential to mention boredom when addressing the question of loneliness. Obviously, these concepts can overlap. For example, a romantic partner or the act of having sex could easily be placed both in the romantic category (or not, not every sexual act is romantic) and the physical category. Sex could also help with boredom. Going to work or volunteering could provide you with a sense of belonging and some peripheral connections. However, even if you have regular sex and are working a satisfying job, you might still feel lonely if what you are craving for is a fellowship; a solid group of close and reliable friends.

Before I describe each of the loneliness types in more detail, it is important to remember that various people will have various needs. Some people might be quite satisfied with no (or limited) romantic partners in their lives. Or with limited physical touch. Introverts might feel quite happy with one evening out every other week, while extroverts might need to be out and about, surrounded by strangers, several times a week to be pleased. It is my understanding, however, that most humans need a healthy mix of these six types to prevent them from feeling lonely. Regardless how much or how little you need for each of these categories, remember that they are not interchangeable when it comes to meeting the needs of each of them.  

Physical Loneliness. 

Physical loneliness is the one that is associated with your sense of touch. It is a very well-documented phenomenon that physical contact causes your brain to release oxytocin. Oxytocin is a hormone commonly called the “bonding hormone,” the “love hormone” or the “nesting hormone,” although it is not only released in romantic settings. The action of hugging a child produces oxytocin in the brain in a somewhat similar way that getting a massage can. People cuddling with a beloved pet will also get oxytocin released in their brain. Alejandro, my co-facilitator, frowns when he learns that oxytocin is also the hormone that I like to blame, mostly as a joke, when someone cannot stop themselves from blurting out “I love you” early (too early?) in a relationship that gets physical. He has confessed to me that he tends to fall in love very rapidly with every man with whom he has good sex, but that the flame extinguishes as quickly when the commitment gets serious. I reassured him that oxytocin is not the sole responsible for this relationship pattern, but that it is something he could keep an eye on. Especially since it is most likely a phenomenon he will encounter in a lot of his clients’ lives through his career. 

When the brain produces oxytocin, it stimulates the release of other feel-good hormones, such as dopamine and serotonin, while reducing stress hormones, such as cortisol and norepinephrine. It is even suggested that being touched can lower your heart rate and blood pressure, lessen depression and anxiety, boost your immune system, and even relieve pain. This might explain in part why so many people think they would be happier with a romantic partner. It can also explain why going out to a club and dancing the night away alongside the bodies of dozens of strangers can make you feel so content with life. These strangers may have been in close enough proximity, in a shared moment of vulnerability and physical closeness, to have released these feel good hormones in your brain all night. Or maybe it is simply the dopamine released by the drugs and alcohol that were ingested that night. 

Obviously, for oxytocin to be released by physical touch, you need to have your guard down, feel at ease and consent to the touch. The same blissful party I just described can easily turn into a nightmare if the person dancing behind you has no spatial awareness and is repeatedly bumping into you. Consensual sex can leave you feeling very empty if the other person doesn’t connect with you, focusing their touch only on genitalia and mechanically using your body to reach orgasm. It is also very unlikely that commuting in an overcrowded subway train at 7:30 am will bring you hormone-filled euphoria. 

As our first type, physical touch is very important to consider when thinking about loneliness. Potentially the most straightforward type, it is also one that many people I have worked with are not paying enough attention to. Like for Stephen when he talks about his sexual life a few weeks after his latest relapse: “I am not even sure why I have sex anymore. I keep thinking it’s going to bring me what I am looking for. Honestly, most of the time I don’t even know what it is that I am looking for. I used to think that sex was better than being alone, but now I’m not so sure. I keep going back to it, though. As if someday, it will work.” I have also heard numerous accounts of people who, like Sanjay, are living in a sexless and touchless marriage and who do not have words to describe the emptiness they are feeling inside. Constantly wondering why they are so lonely when they are accompanied by a partner who loves and supports them in every other aspect of their lives. 


Romantic Loneliness.

Romantic loneliness is the one that almost every movie, song and TV show are about. Many people of my generation ironically thank Disney for giving us very unrealistic expectations when it comes to love. Although romance is one of the most explored themes in pop media culture, I would not be surprised to learn that almost everyone has a slightly different definition of what romance should ideally look like in their life. I would also not be surprised to learn that a lot of people who are actively looking for a partner, like Greg and Stephen, do not have a clear idea of what they want romantically. “I want a boyfriend,” replies Greg with his usual straightforwardness. “Someone who is there for me and to share my life with.” Him and Stephen are definitely not the only ones to bring up romantic relationships first when discussing loneliness. It is a very recurrent topic in all of my line of work. On the first week of this group, Greg even expressed that he didn’t understand why Sanjay and Kenneth — who both have a partner — were attending this program. “I assumed everyone who felt lonely would be single.” 

I have seen too many queer men thinking that a romantic partner will fill the void in all the spheres of their lives. While finding romantic love can be great, it will not solve all social issues. And it should certainly not be standing in place of other significant relationships and friendships in anyone’s life.

Romantic partnership can look and feel very differently for various people. And this is perfectly fine. I did not use the word “romantic” to speak specifically of the prince in shining armour. I used it to describe a type of bond. A sort of close intimate partnership. With one, or with multiple partners. Romantic partnerships do not have to be sexual. There are a lot of people who are satisfied with sexless companionship. Additionally, a lot of asexual people have significant other(s) in their lives. Even people on the aromatic spectrum can build strong bonds of love and respect with whomever they choose, nurturing rewarding and intense friendships with the right people. The definition I personally like to bring up when thinking of my version of romantic relationship is “someone (or multiple people) you are excited to build something with. Or to build (parts of) your life with.” But while the idea of building some sort of future together is deeply enmeshed with my characterization of romantic connection, it doesn’t have to be part of your own definition. However, it will help in your search for romantic connection if you are looking for someone who has a similar (or at least complimentary) definition of love. For the sake of this book, I have decided to call this type of connection “romantic.” I find that most people understand this word easily, are hoping for some variation of this relationship in their lives, and can feel quite lonely without it. Even people who are very happily single. To understand this seemingly conflicting reality, you have to remember that romance doesn’t need to be a lifelong committed partnership. Some people can be quite content with a long-distance love, or an intense connection with another man during a weekend away from home. The affection and sense of comfort from a reliable friend with benefits — with whom a typical romance would not work for some reason — can also fulfill this need for some. You are allowed to rethink the idea of romance for the reality of your own life. And you are also allowed to wish for your prince in shining armour coming to you from the back of a majestic white horse. 

However, there are a number of guys who, like Stephen, are looking for romantic relationships and settling for sex, because it is easier to access. “After spending hours on Scruff and Grindr, of course, I get horny. All I think about are these hot guys who won’t reply to me. Or those who send me countless naked photos and who flake when I suggest going on a date. Try spending an evening looking at naked men and talking about your favourite sex positions without getting horny.” There will be more on this later, but dating apps are rarely a good solution when hoping to feel less lonely. Especially if hoping to find a quick fix. There are rarely quick fixes to loneliness. It is perfectly fine to be looking for a romantic partner, just make sure you look for him at the right place and with the right tools.

Fellowship Loneliness.

Fellowship relationship – also less professionally referred to as “Scooby Doo gang” – refers to the close friends that you instinctively and effortlessly do everything with. Often without really thinking about or questioning it. This is the group of friends that Ari is missing so deeply, with his world of one-on-one connections. 

A fellowship normally consists of a handful of people, very rarely larger than eight to ten, who regularly hang out as a unit. They would most likely be the first people someone contacts when they want to watch a new movie at the theatre, or are planning a cottage weekend. Although some of these people might connect individually — some of them might close friends or partners — the fellowship mostly operates as a group. The relationships within this group are simple — everyone accepting each other’s flaws — and planning activities with them is uncomplicated. By default, your fellowship should be in close proximity to you. I see a lot of gay men in their late twenties or early thirties struggling to understand the changes happening with their friendships when their young adult’s fellowship is starting to fall apart. “I used to have all these friends at university,” explains Ari. “I was seeing them all the time. We would study together, be in the same classes, and go out dancing. Now the two gay ones have moved to different cities and all the straight ones are having kids and moving out of downtown. It’s really hard to see them, especially now that I am the only single one. Our behaviours and interests seem to have changed completely.” These people are undoubtedly still Ari’s friends and may still be very important in his life, but they are no longer form his fellowship. 

Fellowships are normally embedded with social rituals: yearly trips to a sunny destination, Taco Tuesday, or Sunday movie night. A solid fellowship, unless it is on the point of dissolving, is also not very likely to trigger strong feelings of rejection. If one of its members is unavailable for a while, you know they will come back. That it is just a matter of time before they are in your life again. You can hang out with the rest of the group in the meantime, because these people are firmly planted in your routine. Like in Ari’s story, it can take months or years to realize that a fellowship has changed to the point of not existing anymore. Or that it exists without you. The worse for Ari is knowing that three of his university girlfriends now live in the same suburb and are still seeing each other on a weekly basis. Two of them were even pregnant at the same time. 

Unsurprisingly, people who are firmly part of a pleasant fellowship are much less likely to feel lonely. They might be bored when these friends are tied up with other plans, and might feel insecure if they are noticing some changes in the group, but they generally are confident that they have good company in their lives. However, fellowships can be quite challenging to form or to join. They tend to be closely knitted groups of people who are weary (consciously or not) of letting too many new people join their ranks; either in a protective way, or simply by force of habit. Some fellowships have even been formed for years and contain so much history that they can be challenging to enter, even for the new partner of one of its members. Unfortunately, there is a social limit to how large these groups can be. They need to be not too big, and not too small. Nick, who was bullied for his size and has had a hard time making friends since he was a kid, has noticed that many other people tend to have these kinds of relationships in their lives. Even if he has never personally been part of one. He describes having a few close friends whom he loves and with whom he feels very comfortable, but they are all people he sees individually. Like Ari, Nick is aware that these close friends are parts of other social groups, but he is never invited to join. He survived high school with one best friend, whom he still sees about once a month, and met a few nice people when working in a bookstore and studying literature at university. Having never been part of a regular fellowship seems to be taking a toll on his confidence and self-esteem. Directing his anger sometime towards himself and sometime towards others, he declares: “I often wonder if my friends are secretly ashamed of me. Is there a part of me that is so intolerable that I can’t get an invitation? How hard would it be to invite me along to their movie night? How is it that people I consider my friends have hardly ever invited me to any activities with their other friends? I have hinted, not very subtly, that I would like an invite. But they are always evasive. Sometimes I wonder why I keep them in my life. They obviously don’t care about me that much.” 

To get formed, fellowships need to contain at least a few strong leaders — people who are good at getting people together and planning activities — and some sort of communication channel. In this day and age, this communication channel is more often than not a group chat. Fellowships are also easier to maintain in a context in which proximity is forced, like a school or in a small town. Think of the women from the 2004 TV show Desperate Housewives, who are a fellowship not because they particularly like each other or have much in common, but because they all happen to live on Wisteria Lane. 

Although relatively stable and not prone to letting new people in, I reassure Nick and Ari that fellowships tend to change and evolve with time, especially when people get in and out of relationships, are moving, or are going through other life changes. And that this is even more true in bigger cities where the pace of life is faster. The 2020 Covid-19 pandemic was a disaster for fellowships and most people found themselves without one on the other side of these few years. I also remind the two group participants that it is often much more effective to become the leader of a fellowship than to passively wait for an invite. 

Finally, let’s remember that it is perfectly common and acceptable to have friends who are not part of your fellowship. But as we will discuss later, it may be a bit more challenging to plan social activities with them.

Peripheral Loneliness.

Peripheral relationships are almost the exact opposite of fellowship relationships. They consist of all the people who are in your life and who do not feel like they are a significant part of your life. They are your coworkers, the other singers in your choir, the regulars at your favourite bar. They are people who are around you on a fairly regular basis, but whom you don’t care about all that much, or do not know much about. In his book Loneliness, John T. Cacioppo proposes that these peripheral connections are as important as really close friendships in order not to feel the sting of loneliness. Explaining that the need for social interaction is deeply rooted in human nature and that weaker connections can still provide us with a sense of belonging and social connectedness, or that they can serve as a bridge to more meaningful relationships. Other authors like Malcolm Gladwell and Mark Granovetter use the word “weak ties” to talk about peripheral relationships in their work. 

Anthropologist Yuval Noah Harari firmly believes that gossiping is one of the keys to Homo Sapiens’ success. That gossiping empowers us to bond with others, create social norms and build friendships and even hierarchies, allowing us to cooperate and feel like we belong. According to Harari, the brain is built for gossip, an act he describes as fundamental for our species survival: “Social cooperation is our key for survival and reproduction. It is not enough for individual men and women to know the whereabouts of lions and bisons. It’s much more important for them to know who in their band hates whom, who is sleeping with whom, who is honest and who is a cheat.” In Harari’s view, being able to situate yourself and your allies versus the “others” is a key part of the human experience. And although on a large societal level it leads to horrible realities like wars, systemic racism and genocide, on an individual level, it helps us feel connected to our people. This is why people who believe in conspiracy theories are not perturbed by scientific facts. Their beliefs become more than simply “what they think the truth is;” they are a way to situate themselves in the world, to feel secure in a community and to belong to a group. The more ostracized they get by “others” trying to tell them they are wrong, the more strongly they bond with their belief and their like-minded community. This is how strong the need for human connections and community is. And, as Harari, I firmly believe that gossiping plays a big part of it. If you do not believe me, think of how satisfying it is to give a knowing side eye to your favourite coworkers while another one of your colleagues makes one of their usual annoying comments during a team meeting. That simple gesture can, all at once, lift your mood, remind yourself that you have good people in your life (even if your favourite coworker and yourself have never hung out outside of work hours), comfort you in your values and ground you in your connection with your work team. A moment that was gossipy in nature, that lasted less than a second, and that could not have happened without peripheral connections, had all of these impacts on your social life. 

Naturally, peripheral connections are not only useful because of gossiping. It can be quite grounding to know that you will connect with the same people week after week for your yoga class, even if you don’t exchange more than a warm smile and a “hello.” Colin, whose social life consists mainly of volunteering in the community, takes a lot of contentedness knowing that he will help at a community forum later in the week. There, he will not only get a hot meal surrounded by friendly people, he will also get to briefly catch up with a number of attendees whom he sees regularly. Some of them have known him for years and have aged alongside him. “Everyone is always so impressed when I remember that their mother was sick, or that they had a stressful exam coming up. It is important for me to pay attention when they talk, and it makes my day to have these small attentions.” By doing this, Colin is proving that not everybody needs to be your best friend to make you feel connected. “The only issue,” he continues, “is that it makes everyone think that I am very social. Nobody understands that my connections never go much further than these brief interactions. And the relationships never flourish outside of these forums.”

Peripheral connections are also great at creating a ton of social noise in your life. Warm and talkative Sanjay uses this technique frequently to calm his need for connection. He describes going to the Gay Village often, stopping first at his favourite coffee shop to exchange a few nice words with the barista and do some people watching, before heading to his regular pub where he chats with the bartenders and whomever sits next to him at the bar. Sanjay also talks of another pub he loves, because they always display soccer games on their TV. Other regular soccer lovers show up for matches and Sanjay gets to partake in the excitement of the game with them. Even recognizing regular faces now and then. And while, like Colin, he would love for these connections to exist outside of this establishment, to find people with whom he could organize activities, or to call when he is feeling down, this technique has kept him afloat for the last few years. 

As Sanjay knows, peripheral social interactions can be quite exhausting. All the social noise coming from awkward social connections and small talk can make him revel in the time he gets to spend alone with his partner on his couch later in the evening. It is all about balance. Someone who only has those kinds of peripheral connections in their life will most likely feel extremely isolated. But if the Covid-19 pandemic’s restrictions have taught anything, it is that being allowed to see only a small handful of people – be it your best friends and/or partner(s) – can leave us quite unsatisfied socially. 

Belonging Loneliness. 

Belonging means feeling part of a community or a group. In a lot of ways, it is linked with one’s self of purpose in life and with their sense of identity. It is also one of the things I suspect Kenneth, our youngest group participant, is missing. Kenneth is mixed raced, but not really in touch with his father and the black side of his family. He is dating a professional white man who is a bit older than him, and he doesn’t really get along with any of his partner’s friends. He does not, however, seem to have any friends of his own since graduating from high school. Kenneth additionally mentions being uninterested in his work and his colleagues at the electronic store, wondering if his life will just be an endless Groundhog Day. According to existentialist philosopher Irvin D. Yalom in his book Staring at the Sun: Overcoming the Terror of Death, the fear of meaninglessness is one of the five core fears of human existence (alongside with the fear of isolation, the fear of freedom, the fear of existential angst and fear of death). Yalom explains that humans have a deep-seated concern that our lives lack purpose or significance, and that strong social connections can help with finding meaning in life. Yalom also maintains that connections provide a sense of belonging, acceptance, and validation that can help individuals feel valued and significant, and that by caring and supporting those around them, individuals can develop a sense of purpose and responsibility. Considering this, it is not surprising to find that people who have connections with others and feel like they belong are not only less lonely, but they are normally more content and optimistic about life. Their strong sense of belonging in their social connections makes them less worried about the meaning of life. 

While the following example overlaps with the concept of fellowship, a great metaphor to think about belonging is the stereotype of cliques, always present in high school movies or TV shows. This trope was made famous in the 2004 comedy Mean Girls, when Janis and Damian (Lizzy Caplan and Daniel Franzese) explain to new girl in town Cady (Lindsay Lohan) who sits where in the high school cafeteria. Although caricatured for the sake of humour, this depiction clearly speaks of the real need for teenagers — who are in the midst of their social development — to assemble with like-minded people. That it is better to sit with the “desperate wannabes” or the “art freaks” than alone. However, belonging doesn’t always have to exist through fellowship, and the two concepts are different in various ways. First, belonging to a community can make you feel deeply connected with a perfect stranger over shared value or interest. While attending a convention, for example, you could feel very close to people who are not your friends, simply because of your shared love of computer science, comic books or classical music. For gay men who love the gay scene, dancing and going out to clubs, belonging to the “gay community” can be quite easy to achieve. They can easily find places where they feel connected, without actually being friends with the other patrons of the club. Mostly because they share a taste in music, wear similar fashion, and can recognize themselves in each other. Discussing a TV show like RuPaul Drag Race could make someone feel a very strong connection with a stranger met at a party; sharing thoughts and ideas about that program all night long, just to never see this person again. 

Belonging can also be accessed through work or volunteering. Coming home socially satisfied after a day of labour shared with like-minded people working together towards similar goals. And while it is perfectly fine, like Kenneth, not to affirm your life goals at work and to occupy a job simply to be able to pay rent, it hopefully means that you have other parts of your life that bring you fulfillment. Someone like Kenneth, who doesn’t feel meaningfully connected to a community and who is not satisfied with their work, will definitely feel lonelier. I have also seen people who do not have a strong affinity with pop culture or who have very niche hobbies and passions really struggle with belonging. Since they do not have access to readily available small talk or shared interest with others, or because they have been made to feel like outsiders or misfits in a culture that prioritizes certain mainstream interests or values. 

Another way belonging differs from fellowship is with the number and size of the groups one can be part of. Where being in a fellowship means being part of a solid group of closely knitted friends, one can belong to various groups, scenes and communities. I would actually argue that to foster a healthy sense of belonging, someone needs to be part of a plurality of systems, including systems of different sizes. I definitely find it pleasant, for example, to be part of online communities of other queer geeks from around the world; participating in conversations about the new Marvel movies, exchanging memes about Sailor Moon and connecting through our shared interest in video games. Finding out that there were (a lot) of other geeky queer people out in the world was very affirming for my identity, having been ridiculed for both of these things when I was younger. The internet, and especially the TikTok algorithms, have really helped a lot of people find community and belonging, but for many, internet connections are not sufficient. They can help a lot on various levels, like for Tan who explained that the first trans people they were able to connect with were met through a secret Instagram account and various subreddits they were certain their parents would not be able to access. But a diversity of systems will definitely feel sturdier. For example, I could complement my geeky online community with a local group of anime watchers, board games players or DC comics fans. Transferring my interest from a larger system to a smaller local one. 

There is a popular belief – that started with the push for “coming out” in the 1990s – that as soon as someone accepts and announces their homosexuality to the world, they are immediately warmly welcomed and accepted in the 2SLGBTQA+ community (to be honest, in the ’90s, it was really just the LG community). That they have found their group, their world, where they belong. That coming out is a one stop shop at feeling better and being surrounded with friends, lovers and chosen family – “it gets better!” I believe the people behind these ideologies meant well, but these ideas quickly start to crumble when faced with intersectionality or when addressing various forms of oppression. Needless to say, unlike what the coming-out movement of the ’90s is claiming, belonging in the gay community is not that simple. For Kenneth, who was born after the ’90s, who easily came out of the closet at home and at work at the age of sixteen and who is openly living with a same-sex partner, simply being open about his sexuality does not help with his sense of belonging. He actually disclosed to the other members of the group that he never really feels like he fits in when being only surrounded with other gay men.

In order to feel like you belong in a community, this community needs to look and feel like you. This, in part, can explain why Tan, the only trans participant, nearly decided to leave our group support program after the first two weeks. The difference between them and the other participants appeared almost too great to make them feel like they belonged. It also explains why so many queer men are dissatisfied with the gay scene, or the “gay village.” Why finally feeling safe enough to download Grindr on your phone doesn’t automatically make you feel connected with other men. Simply because there is a discrepancy between how people think they should be feeling after coming out (or arriving to Canada, or a larger city) and their actual surroundings. A discrepancy between the community they were hoping for and the real life that is offered to them. One in which so many of us do not feel seen, represented, or welcomed. Simply coming out or being gay doesn’t mean that you will belong in “the gay community” in a meaningful way.

If you do not feel like you belong, I could throw as many bodies at you as I want, it is very unlikely that you’ll feel any bond. I have seen over and over again that simply being queer does not make us feel immediately connected to each other in a meaningful way. That the only thing you may have in common with the person next to you in a gay bar is being awake at the same time and currently visiting the same neighborhood. “Gay” may have been sufficient for certain people years ago, when the community was much smaller, when fewer people were out of the closet and when the queer scenes included less diversity, but it is most certainly no longer the case. And it was most likely never the case for a very large number of people who were simply not given a voice at the time. Colin, the group participant who has been part of the gay scene for the longest, recalls that when he arrived to Canada, he had felt immediately at home in the first gay bar he visited. The fear of getting discovered was subdued by the sentiment that he had truly found where he belonged. At the time, being an out homosexual man had easily bridged gaps, regardless of his Filipino background, his culture of origin and his accent. There were fewer men in the club and the connections felt deeper. Some of the men were also tasking themselves to welcome strangers and show them the ropes. And although he was not seeing many other faces that looked like his, the validation of his gay identity felt overwhelmingly satisfying. Today, although he has fond memories of his clubbing years, Colin no longer thinks of himself as a club person. He wouldn’t feel like he belonged if he were to visit a gay bar in the hope of making connections. He would most likely feel as isolated if this club had one hundred or one thousand people in it. “The gay scene has changed a lot too,” he adds. “I am not always sure where I fit in anymore. That is why I love groups like this one.” 

Boredom.

As mentioned, this last category is a little bit different from the previous ones. It is less about the type of relationships you have, and more about being entertained. I felt compelled to add this category because I see a lot of people having a hard time distinguishing between being lonely and being bored. While these two often go hand in hand, they do not operate exactly the same way, and will not be satisfied from the same actions. If you are feeling bored and in need of entertainment, you might not be satisfied by simply surrounding yourself with people. Especially if you do not have a good enough connection with them to obtain the entertainment you are looking for. Nick, our literature expert, illustrates this phenomenon with the perfect example on the third week of the support program, while discussing his last weekend. He explains that he was feeling lonely on Friday night and decided to force himself to go to a bar with his sister and her friends. Nick explained that these people are not very good friends of his. But since they were there and had invited him, he thought that joining them would be better than staying home alone. And he may have been right. However, they dragged him to a loud straight bar he does not like; where the music was not to his taste, yet too loud to have proper conversation. Worse, they eventually all started dancing and Nick was not in the right mood for it. The setting was not entertaining, and Nick couldn’t amuse himself with the company surrounding him, even if he really likes his sister in other circumstances. Walking home at the end of the night, Nick realized he felt even worse than if he had just stayed at home and watched a movie. He was even wondering if something was broken with him, since everyone else seemed to have had a good time. “Why was I feeling so lonely? I had just spent the night with people.” While feeling worse at the end of the night partly has to do with not belonging, Nick was also able to identify that he had actually not been feeling lonely on Friday, he had been feeling bored. He was hoping to break the monotony of his life, and a night out in a straight bar with his sister’s friends was not what he needed. While some people can break this monotony by sweating on a dance floor, this was not what Nick wanted. “I was tired from my week and I wanted a glass of wine and a quieter evening with only a few friends. Maybe board games.”

If, in the same scenario, Nick had gone to a bar he enjoys to play some trivia with his sister and her friends, he may have had a great time. People are often more satisfied socially when hanging out in an entertaining environment than in a place they find boring. Even if they are in the latter with their partner or best friends. Like Sanjay who prefers going out watching soccer with strangers than staying home with his introverted husband.

It is relevant, when thinking about boredom, to mention that when asked what their hobbies are, most people will make a list of things they do alone. Even more relevant is the fact that most people will also make a list of things they aspire to do, instead of things they actually like doing. When asked this question, Nick gives some vague answer about wanting to read more, talking about the pile of untouched books in his library, Ari mentions the guitar he used to be pretty good at playing, and both Kenneth and Greg say they want to go to the gym more often. However, as soon as I scratched the surface, they all revealed that they like the idea of those hobbies more than they like the actual process of them. Ari actually feels worse each time he sees his guitar in the corner of his bedroom, because he “should be playing it more.” I explained to him that this is quite common, and I had this experience myself for years with painting and drawing. It was quite challenging for me to accept that while I enjoyed the idea of having created a nice painting, I actually found the process of painting intimidating, demoralizing and, frankly, quite boring. I also encourage Ari to think about ways he could use his guitar with company, instead of alone. Maybe playing the guitar alone on his couch is not enjoyable, but finding people to join in on jamming sessions, taking classes, or even starting an amateur band could be much more fulfilling. Maybe he likes listening to guitar more than he likes playing it, and he could find live music shows to entertain himself. On the other side of the room, Sanjay starts laughing. “I haven’t touched a soccer ball myself in years. I was terrible at it!” 

When asked about his reading habits, Nick disclosed guiltily that he always makes a point to encourage queer writers and to buy tomes written by queer artists. And that with a master in literature, he feels like he should be reading only certain types of prestigious books. However, he admits that they are not always his favourite stories to read. He explains that he gets stuck between his desire to encourage queer literature and celebrated pieces of writing because of his degree, and his desire to read Sci-Fi novels, his “guilty pleasure” (on a side note, I do not think we should feel guilty about pleasure). Always seeing the glass half-full, Colin exclaims: “With all your knowledge from your degree, maybe you would be the best person to write the gay Sci-Fi novel you are dreaming of! I promise you I will read it.” This gets a loud laugh from all the other participants in the room and a shy dismissive answer from Nick. But also, I am glad to notice, a small smile. 

As for the gym as a hobby in the gay community, a whole book could probably be written on the topic. Greg’s motivation to go more often comes from his feeling that he is not getting the results he is seeking with his current four days a week workout routine. He doesn’t find the gym too unpleasant, as he feels comfortable with his routine, but admits it is not the favourite part of his day. Greg has thought about getting a gym partner, but said it was too complicated to coordinate their schedule and just easier to go alone. “I guess it’s not really a hobby. It’s just something I do. It feels less lonely than being at home. It keeps me busy. So… I am not sure what my hobbies are. Would having sex and going on dates be hobbies?” As for Kenneth, he is torn. On the one hand, he talks about a lack of motivation, having no interest in exercising after nine hours spent on his feet at work, and discomfort in the idea of being in a gym full of other men who, according to him, belong there more than him. On the other hand, he is aware of the benefits, thinks it would be healthier than being home and smoking weed all the time, and, obviously, is struggling with his own body image issues. Even if they are relatively mild. After hearing Greg’s testimonial, Kenneth confirms that he does not think of the gym as a hobby after all. “It’s definitely a chore in my head. No wonder I don’t go.” 

One thing is clear for all the participants, however. When they feel entertained, when they partake in activities they enjoy and when boredom is at bay, they definitely have less time to think about loneliness. 

Gas tanks.

With a better understanding of the six types of loneliness, it is easier to take a moment to check in and wonder: which one(s) of those is missing in my life. I like to think of those six different types as six different gas tanks that you have inside yourself. Each of these gas tanks will need a different type of fuel to feel satisfied. Maybe some of those tanks are a lot smaller than others for you, or maybe a little fuel in one particular tank can go a long way. Maybe one of your tanks is overspilling while some others are staying empty. What is important to understand is that if you try to put the wrong fuel in the wrong tank, it will not be as effective. Same goes if you overflow one of these tanks as a way to ignore the needs of another. It might actually make you feel worse. 

Although the second part of this book will give specific tips to help with loneliness, I completely understand that at times — sometimes often — we do not have access to the right fuel. Ari knows, for example, that he would like to find a fellowship, but he does not have one available right now. In that case, I suggest doing the following two things: 

First, keep looking for this fuel. If you are hoping for a fellowship, keep working towards this goal. It might take a while, but there will be tips in the second section to help you create and maintain connections. Now that you have a better understanding of what is missing in your life, it will be easier — or at least more straightforward — to find it. Instead of swinging a sword in the dark. 

Secondly, if you don’t have access to the right fuel, I suggest taking care of your other tanks, while being mindful that this particular one will stay unfulfilled for a while. One of the scenarios I hear the most often is one Alejandro, my co-facilitator, told me during one of our check-ins. He talked about going out to a bar or a party with friends, while being (not so) secretly looking for a romantic (or at least sexual) relationship. In lieu of being grateful for the beautiful evening he had with his friends, he heads home sad and defeated because he hasn’t found a connection with a stranger. I remind him that there is nothing wrong with wanting to find a partner, especially if he sees some friends “scoring” that night, but that it might help to be mindful of what he is doing. Otherwise, he will not be able to absorb the good parts of his evening. After thinking on this for a second, Alejandro, who is very recently single, mentions that this behaviour is happening subconsciously. He tells me that as soon as he is single, his relationship with clubs and bars changes. When he has a partner, he is able to go out and have fun with his friends, without thinking about other boys for one second. But when he is single, his mind automatically starts searching for a connection. He gets envious of his friends who seem more successful than him, and goes home feeling incredibly lonely and sad – the depressing effect of the alcohol he consumed not helping with his mood. I indicate to Alejandro that bringing awareness to an issue is often enough to help a little, and I invite him to examine the same scenario, but with a socially mindful approach. Now that he knows that it is his romantic loneliness that is screaming for fuel, he has options. For example: 

1. He can acknowledge that a romantic partner would be nice — and even keep an eye open for it! — while deciding to focus on his friends, the music, and the ambiance of the party. Being grateful at the end of the night for the things he got from this event, while knowing that eventually a partner would be great. 

2. He can monitor his behaviour and thoughts before and during the party. Reminding himself that the objective for the night is to go out, dance and have fun. Not to make out with a stranger. He knows he has three apps downloaded on his phone that serve the purpose of making out with strangers and that he actually has a date planned for the next day. He can take comfort in that.

3. He can decide that a party is not what he needs tonight. Maybe all of his friends are in a relationship and hanging out with them will make him feel worse. Maybe he knows each time he goes to this particular bar, he gets home feeling worse about himself. Maybe he just won’t be able to focus on the positive that night. 

4. He can tell his friends he is looking for a partner. And get their help. Having allies in this quest might make the process funnier. It might even bring him closer to his friends. 

At the end of the day, he only needs to be mindful not to try filling his romantic tank with the wrong fuel. We could do the same exercise with Alejandro if what he was looking for at that party was sex (aka physical touch). Once you are aware and honest with yourself about what it is you are looking for, you can make conscious decisions about it. Including deciding that you still want to take part in a social activity, even if it won’t fuel the right tank.