Why Most People Can’t Handle Their Own Company
Personal Perspective: Choosing to be alone can be the bravest thing you do.
Posted February 25, 2026 | Reviewed by Lybi Ma
It is 4 a.m., and I just want to write this.
My daughter told me recently during a heated conversation: “You have no one.” And it is true. No matter how painful it might feel inside, that is my raw reality. I cannot say I am 100 percent happy about it. At times, it feels lonely , but it is better to have a conversation with yourself than with someone who is not equally present emotionally or mentally, or who is just present like background noise. I am not sure what is worse.
When she said, “You have no one,” I thought that it would have hurt two years ago. Back then, I would have felt exposed and perhaps ashamed. But now I cannot even fully name the feeling. It is something between shock and a surrender, like, wow, it is true, but let it be, so what? It feels right. It is my path and my experiment with my own self.
My entire life, I was surrounded by many people, and I kept them the way you keep the TV on, even when you’re not watching it. Psychologically, it’s not just the number of social contacts that matters; the strength and emotional quality of those connections are what support mental health (Marinucci and colleagues, 2021).
One time, I asked my aunt, who is 63 years old, about her group of friends. I always felt they were not really her friends, but more of a favor-for-favor arrangement, or people to pass the time with, no matter how different their perspectives were. And she knew it. Her friends probably knew it too.
I asked her, “Why keep them?”
She said, “At this age, it is better to have social connections, a support system, and you just close your eyes to small annoying details.”
Maybe she is right. Maybe one day I will see it differently. But for now, keeping people around me only for safety or future support does not feel true. I am not afraid of being alone at the end of my life. The idea of living quietly in a sacred place, serving, and ending my days there has always felt peaceful to me and not depressing at all. Hopefully, I’m healthy enough to carry my own water! If that is how my life unfolds, I would accept it. At least I would know I stayed honest with myself.
The great lesson in life may be to let go—of anything. Material things, situations, environments, people. My logic: If you see that a particular person no longer reflects you on a deep level, if you no longer feel passion for the relationship (not only romantic ones), if you have outgrown it, if your interests are different, and all that connects you is your past, then perhaps it is the end of the relationship.
My way is to let go and move on. Why keep someone and invest effort if the other side is not there, if they do not need or want that depth? Psychologically, letting go is an exercise in emotional self-regulation and boundary -setting, which protects mental health (Berking and Whitley, 2024) .
How do I know I have outgrown someone, and that I am not just protecting myself from disappointment? I ask myself that often. When I notice that someone maintains relationships because it is “right” for their age, culture, children, or because one day they might need them, I sense that our motivations are different. And that means we are walking separate paths.
I have been holding on to some relationships because they reminded me of my past self, my child self, my high school self, my early adulthood self, without realizing that they were no longer serving either of us. If I am honest with myself, do I really need this connection, or am I holding on out of habit? I did not want to admit that the effort felt pointless, that it was not going to be received in the way I hoped.
I started letting go of relationships that were not meaningful to me. I cut ties with people with whom I did not feel like myself. And I ended up alone. Am I satisfied? At times, yes. It feels like the TV in the background has been shut off, and now it is only my own voice. It is uncomfortable at the beginning, but nourishing for some reason. There are no disappointments, no proving points, no need for validation or acknowledgment, no blame. Just stillness.
I used to be scared of judgment, misunderstandings, and society’s disapproval. Now I do not care. Does that sound defensive? Maybe. Even the people with whom I once shared secrets are no longer here. Have I stopped caring, or have I become tired? Maybe tired. Tired of explaining myself. Tired of adjusting where I don’t feel understood. Just tired of performing.
Being real means allowing myself to feel however I feel in the moment. Just honest. And I understand that not everyone will be comfortable with that. Not everyone will like that. Psychologically, this aligns with emotional authenticity, allowing internal states to guide behavior rather than suppressing them for social conformity (Ryan and colleagues, 2000). Is that okay? Can I accept that not everyone is for me? Yes. Because that is what it means to be me. Yes, we are social beings. We need connection, that’s what my mother tells me, and I agree to some extent. But there are species that can thrive in solitude. We cannot have one rule for everyone.
It is like medical treatment: We cannot apply the same treatment to every patient. Some have allergies, some have intolerances, and some need adjusted doses. The approach must be individual. Maybe it is a phase. Maybe not. As long as it keeps me true to my real self, I am content.
But I am free emotionally and mentally. And I am at peace.
I don’t know what the next chapter holds, and I am okay with that uncertainty.
Berking, M. (2024). Emotion regulation and mental health : Current evidence and beyond. World Psychiatry.
N.C. Krämer, et al. (2021). The Strength of Weak Ties Revisited: Further Evidence of the Role of Strong Ties in the Provision of Online Social Support. Social Media + Society, 7(3), 1–12.
Ryan, R. M., & Deci, E. L. (2000). Self-determination theory and the facilitation of intrinsic motivation, social development, and well-being. American Psychologist, 55(1), 68–78.
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Aigerim Alpysbekova, MPH , is a researcher and advocate at the University of Texas at Austin, specializing in the psychological impacts of trauma on displaced populations.
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This article is part of the Bringwise Psychology Journal — daily insights on human behavior, mental health, and personal growth.