As a Christian counselor in Seattle, a city renowned for its relational “freeze,” many of the most common struggles I see in the counseling room stem from relational brokenness. Clients come seeking healing from many forms of disconnection: pain within their families of origin, distance in one’s relationship with God, conflict and miscommunication in marriage, or social anxiety that keeps them from pursuing romantic relationships or even friendship.
Beneath these varied experiences, there is often a shared thread: a pervasive sense of loneliness.
Recent Gallup research indicates that loneliness among American adults is at its highest level since 2021, when the pandemic was still shaping daily life. In 2025 between 25–29% of adults ages 18–44 report experiencing loneliness on a daily basis. Loneliness is distressing and correlates strongly with depression. What’s more, it can reinforce a self-perpetuating belief: I either deserve to be alone or am better off that way.
Over time, loneliness can merge with existing insecurities and spiral into shame. That shame then fuels social anxiety and fear of rejection, preventing us from initiating connection or participating in community. We may even begin to believe that the risk of relational hurt outweighs any potential good.
Loneliness is not limited to those who appear isolated from others. It can also show up in the lives of those who seem well-connected. And because it appears unjustified, this form of loneliness can feel even heavier. It whispers to the heart, “How could someone with so many relationships feel lonely?”
But some of my own most acute experiences of loneliness have occurred when I was frequently spending time around other people but felt as though no one really cared or took the time to know me at a deeper level. Loneliness can creep into any situation, and it is a truly miserable feeling.
Loneliness cuts so deeply because it strikes at the core of what it means to be human. We are made in the image of a triune God — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit — who is three persons united together as one. God is, by his very nature, relational. As his image-bearers, we are created with that same relational design. We are not merely individuals who happen to need others; we have an innate longing for relationships with others as an essential aspect of our personhood, and we become more fully ourselves as we live in relationship with God and with others.
When God declares, “It is not good that man should be alone” (Genesis 2:18), he reveals that we were made for connection. It is essential to human flourishing so he provides Adam with a companion, a suitable partner and friend.
When sin entered the world through our first parents, the first thing it attacked was this relational core. Our sin caused immediate separation and disconnection in our most important and life-sustaining relationships. The first rupture was vertical: separation from God as we fail to trust him and believe that he is good. This was followed by horizontal breakdown — shame, blame, and conflict in our relationships with one another (Genesis 3:8–12) — and even disorder in our relationship with creation itself (Genesis 3:13–19).
We now live with the daily effects of this brokenness, yet we long for what we were created for: restored relationships. Even in our experiences of pain and heartbreak, we carry hope that restoration is possible.
Relational wounds often tempt us to withdraw, but we will never find healing in avoidance or isolation. The greatest healing for broken relationships is only possible when we have the courage to practice being vulnerable in a safe relationship, like with a counselor. In psychological terms, this is often described as a “corrective emotional experience.”
From a biblical perspective, we might understand it more fully as an expression of redemption. Throughout Scripture, God repeatedly assures his people of his steadfast presence: “I will be with you;” “I will never leave you nor forsake you.” These promises speak directly to our loneliness. They offer the safety, stability, and nearness our hearts most deeply long for and serve as the foundation of truth that we can cling to in seasons of loneliness and isolation.
Counseling can also provide a safe, consistent, and trustworthy space that invites honesty, vulnerability, and the experience of being truly known. Within that safety, individuals can begin to practice trust, repentance, forgiveness, and authentic connection. In this way, the counseling relationship becomes a kind of training ground where relational and emotional skills are developed and then carried into other relationships.
There are also small, practical steps we can take to resist the voices of loneliness and shame. In situations where we might be tempted to avoid or self-isolate, we can choose to act against those tendencies and move toward engagement and connection. Attend a social gathering you would rather avoid because you fear no one will talk to you. Text a friend to initiate time together, even if you worry they may not respond. Offer help to someone in need without expecting anything in return.
These small steps combat the narrative that we are unwanted, alone, or unable to meaningfully connect with those around us.
When we challenge the narrative of loneliness, we begin to replace them with truth: It is not good for us to be alone. We were created for relationships — both with God and with one another.
Katie Ribera serves as director of connections and community at Trinity Church in Seattle, Washington. She is also a licensed counselor and the executive director at Bell Tower Counseling.