Feeling alone in a culture built on togetherness

Loneliness is like a lingering emptiness following you around. It doesn't care about the number of people around you, for it will make you feel completely isolated from the world. It is a straightforward dissonance between the relationships you have and the ones you crave.

Many people in the diaspora are born into collectivist cultures. Think of it as a world where you are never just an "I," you are always part of a "we." In these backgrounds, your safety net is your people: it's your aunties, your neighbours, and the cousins who show up without being asked. If you need help moving, five people are at your door. If you're grieving, the kitchen is solitary full of food. In this kind of world, you don't have to schedule support two weeks in advance. Instead, it's a constant, implicit presence that requires no formal invitation. However, when you try to transplant that way of living into a highly individualistic society, like a busy Western environment, for example, you can often find yourself stuck in a painful gap between expectation and reality.

Different Ways of Belonging

In a collectivist world, you don't have to network to find a community, you are literally born into one. You grow up learning to live with others and navigate relationships. But in individualistic societies, the logic is totally different. One is taught to be first and foremost independent and autonomous, so as not to be a burden for anyone else. Connection is quite optional, and the "give-and-take" dynamic can start to feel... transactional. Instead of a paced give where giving and taking are expected and an essential part of a relationship, the expectation of receiving gives way to an uncomfortable feeling of being indebted to the other person, turning it from a lifebit exchange of favours. Surely you have experienced a moment before when people insist to repay a ridiculous amount of money or, on the contrary, ask to participate in the expenses for what was supposed to be an invitation of any kind.

The Impact of a Busy World

Modern capitalism makes us act a certain way, and we cannot pretend like we're immune to it. When our society rewards the grind, the person who stays late at the office and relies only on themselves, by giving them the option to not put up with the "messy" side of people because they can afford to, what's supposed to be a community slowly fades away.

Then, when you can't find that deep connection you crave, the system makes you feel like it's your fault. We frame loneliness as a personal failure, as if we weren't social enough, rather than a natural result of living in a world that doesn't leave room for the slow, intentional work of being together.

The Weight of Expectations

However, it isn't always a "more is better" situation. There is also a pressure that comes with these tight-knit backgrounds. While a community can be a superpower, it is also a double-edged sword. When your culture cares deeply about family reputation or "what people will say," the social stakes do become stressing.

Imagine a young person—perhaps yourself even—who feels they cannot speak about their struggles with mental health or their career choices because it's unheard of or because that's not how the family thinks it's best. In this case, the very network meant to be a safety net starts to feel like a cage. You might find yourself surrounded by people at a family reunion, yet feeling a desperate need to escape just to catch your breath. In a strange paradox, people often start pulling away as a form of self-preservation. They choose distance because the walls of cultural expectation have become too high to climb.

Finding a Middle Ground

Ultimately, we aren't forced to settle for just one of these realities. There is a middle ground where we can honor our intrinsic need for belonging without losing our sense of self. It begins with recognizing that loneliness is often a systemic issue, allowing us to stop feeling ashamed and start deciding what kind of connection we set the intention to build.