Why Being Alone Feels So Hard for Some People - and How Therapy Can Help

Why being alone feels unbearable for some people

Some people find time alone restorative. Others find it deeply uncomfortable, even frightening.

This difference often shows up in therapy when clients talk about evenings on their own, quiet weekends, or the end of a relationship. What sounds like “free time” to one person can feel like emotional freefall to another.

If you struggle to be alone, you may already know how intense it can feel. Anxiety rises quickly. Thoughts spiral. A sense of emptiness or panic takes hold. You might distract yourself constantly, reach for your phone, or feel a strong pull to be with someone, anyone.

This is not a weakness. It is not neediness. And it is not something you simply think your way out of.

When solitude feels unsafe

For people who struggle with being alone, solitude is not neutral. It does not feel quiet or peaceful. It feels unsafe.

Being with other people often regulates the nervous system. Conversation, presence and connection provide a sense of grounding. When that external regulation disappears, the body reacts. Heart rate increases. Muscles tense. The mind searches for threat.

This is why the discomfort can feel visceral rather than emotional. It is felt in the chest, stomach or breath before it is put into words.

People often describe it as:

• feeling unreal or unanchored

• feeling like something bad might happen

• feeling overwhelmed by thoughts

• feeling invisible or forgotten

In these moments, being alone is not experienced as rest. It is experienced as abandonment.

The ability to be alone is learned

The capacity to be alone is not a personality trait. It is a developmental achievement.

In early life, we learn to tolerate solitude because someone safe was emotionally nearby. A child can play alone because they know a caregiver is available, attentive and predictable.

Over time, that sense of safety becomes internal.

If early caregiving was inconsistent, emotionally unavailable, intrusive or unpredictable, being alone may never have felt safe. Instead, it may have been associated with fear, loneliness or emotional overwhelm.

Later in life, those same states can be reactivated in solitude, even when there is no actual danger.

This means that difficulty being alone is not about disliking your own company. It is about not having an internal sense of safety.

Attachment and fear of aloneness

This struggle is common in people with anxious or disorganised attachment patterns.

You might notice patterns such as:

• staying in relationships that do not feel good

• fearing breakups more than unhappiness

• needing frequent reassurance or contact

• feeling lost without a partner

Relationships become not just meaningful, but stabilising. They provide a sense of identity, regulation and emotional grounding.

When a relationship ends, or when contact is reduced, it can feel as though the ground disappears beneath you. This is why even short periods of being alone can feel intolerable.

Is this about self-worth?

Sometimes, but not always.

Low self-worth can intensify the discomfort of being alone, particularly if your inner dialogue becomes harsh or critical in the quiet. However, many people who struggle with solitude do not actively dislike themselves.

More often, the difficulty lies in emotional regulation rather than self-esteem. The inner world feels noisy, uncontained or overwhelming. Without external connection, there is nothing to steady it.

Does gender play a role?

Gender can influence how this difficulty is expressed, but not whether it exists.

Many women are socialised to prioritise connection and emotional closeness, which can make the fear of being alone easier to name. Many men are encouraged towards independence and emotional self-reliance, which can mean the same fear shows up as restlessness, avoidance or constant activity rather than anxiety.

In the therapy room, this struggle appears across genders. The nervous system responds to early experience, not social expectations.

Why quiet brings things to the surface

When external stimulation drops, the mind turns inward. For someone who struggles with being alone, this can mean coming face to face with emotions that have never had space. Grief, anger, loneliness or unmet needs can surface quickly.

This is one reason people keep busy, stay socially connected, or avoid quiet moments. Distraction is not laziness. It is often a form of self-protection.

What actually helps

Telling someone to “learn to enjoy their own company” misses the point.

What helps is not forcing solitude, but making it safer. That often involves:

• understanding where the fear comes from

• building tolerance gradually rather than all at once

• learning ways to regulate the body, not just the mind

• developing a kinder, steadier inner voice

Short, intentional periods of being alone are often more helpful than long stretches. So is having something grounding to focus on, rather than sitting in silence.

The aim is not to love being alone. It is to feel safe enough in your own presence.

How therapy supports this process

In therapy, the relationship itself becomes part of the work. Experiencing consistency, emotional attunement and reliability with another person helps the nervous system settle.

Over time, that experience becomes internalised.

Clients often notice that:

• their inner dialogue becomes less harsh

• anxiety in quiet moments reduces

• being alone feels less threatening

• relationships feel less urgent

This is not a quick fix. It is relational, gradual work. But it can make a profound difference to how someone experiences themselves and their life.

A different way of understanding yourself

If you struggle to be alone, it does not mean you are dependent or broken.

It means solitude has never felt safe.

With understanding, patience and support, that can change. Not by forcing independence, but by building internal steadiness over time.