After Hours: Loneliness in a Life That Looks Full
You deserve to feel seen, not just watched
I started After Hours because, for years, I’ve shared health, science and wellness advice in a way that’s polished and professional. But behind that, I’m a human being with my own questions, struggles and contradictions, just like you. I wanted a space where I could talk about the things that don’t always fit neatly into a clinical article. Where the conversation could be less formal, more real.
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Last weekend, I did something that was profoundly fulfilling. I called a friend whom I had not caught up with for months and we ended up talking for over six hours. From this very much extended phone chat, I immediately learned two things: one, when you think of someone and want to know how they are doing, reach out to them and two, my phone service was excellent, we did not get disconnected despite the rainy weather.
On TikTok right now, there’s a conversation that’s both heartbreaking and important: male loneliness. Videos of men admitting they have no close friends. Clips of others saying they haven’t been hugged in months. Confessions about going entire weeks without anyone asking how they are.
And I can’t stop thinking about it, not just because it’s about men, but because it’s about all of us.
As an ambassador of the “R U OK? Day”, I feel that this is something that needs to be an everyday thing because while we live in a world that’s more connected than ever; the quiet, invisible kind of loneliness seems to be everywhere.
And it’s not just in people who “look” lonely. It’s in the people with partners, kids, jobs, busy social calendars. It’s in the ones who post smiling group photos and beautiful travel reels.
It’s in people whose lives look full.
I’ve been there. I’ve had seasons where my calendar was packed, my inbox overflowing, my social media feed full of milestones… and yet there were moments where I felt alone. Not because I didn’t have people around me but because I didn’t feel seen.
That’s the thing about hidden loneliness: you can be surrounded and still feel separate. You can be known, but not known deeply. You can “connect” online all day and still never share anything real enough for someone to truly understand you.
Social media makes it worse. We’re constantly comparing our internal world to someone else’s highlight reel. You scroll through someone’s curated life: their holidays, their new car, their date night. Suddenly your perfectly normal Tuesday feels like failure. The dangerous part is, we know it’s curated but it still gets under our skin.
And for many men in particular, there’s an added layer: the unspoken rule that you shouldn’t admit you’re lonely. That vulnerability is weakness. That your worth is tied to your achievements or your ability to “handle things” on your own. I know this because I hesitated before I hit publish on this article. I asked myself, will I come across as weak?
The result? We don’t talk about it. We don’t reach out. We don’t say, “I’m feeling disconnected.” We just keep smiling in photos and hope no one notices the gap.
Sincerely, without trying to sound dramatic, here’s what I’ve learned, both personally and from my work: Loneliness is a health issue.
It’s as real as high blood pressure. It affects your heart, your immune system, your sleep, your risk of depression. The body treats chronic loneliness as a threat, and it responds with stress and inflammation over time.
The good news is, it’s also treatable.
But the treatment doesn’t come from likes, follows or “keeping busy.” It comes from honest, reciprocal connection, the kind where you can say something messy and the other person stays.
What I find very useful, and perhaps you can try, are these following things:
Do a connection audit. Who in your life makes you feel lighter after you speak to them? Who drains you? You don’t need hundreds of friends, this is one of those examples where quality trumps quantity.
Start small, but go deep. Text a friend and ask something real: “What’s been the hardest part of your week?” Or tell them your own.
Be the first to reach out. Don’t wait for someone else to notice you’ve been quiet. Send the message you wish someone would send you.
Step into spaces that allow vulnerability. That could be a men’s group, a book club, therapy, even online communities where real talk is the norm.
A full life isn’t one that looks perfect from the outside, it’s one that feels supported from the inside.
If no one has told you this lately: you deserve to feel seen, not just watched.
And you’re not the only one who feels this way.
You never were.
Until next time,
Dr Vincent
So true. I work with vulnerable people and often see the barriers loneliness incurs. I offer the “it’s ok to be vulnerable” convo starter and offer guidance on what that means. Too many men have been taught to tough it out, no it’s great to face your weaknesses, thoughts of despair and troubles. I advocate for high schools to include MH programmes and have implemented a couple of said programmes locally. The feedback particularly from male students proves it hits home and reduces the stigma to seek support.
As for social media, don’t get me started on wellness influencers who apparently have life worked to a T at 22 🤣
I agree with your comments, I’ve noticed older retired men feel very lonely and invisible. For many, their identity revolved around their careers, not who they where/ are as a person.
I’ve seen this happen to older women, they may have retired or their children are busy and no longer need them. These women are also invisible and lonely. Both these men and women put on a brave face but behind their mask, their value and self esteem plummeted. In our Australian culture we tend not to value our older citizens