Dear Therapist,

I’m a mid-20s single professional living in London for the past two years since graduating university up north. I came here full of excitement and big expectations — a good job, good salary, and endless chances to socialise and make new friends in the city. The reality has been… not quite that.

The work is interesting but intense and the hours are long. The “flexible working” perk just means I work from my flat most days — and by the time I log off, I’m too tired (and too friendless) to go anywhere. It was fine for the first year when everything was new and stimulating, but lately I’m bored, unmotivated, and a bit lonely.

I know I’m lucky to have a job at all, especially in this market, but sometimes I catch myself daydreaming about ditching my job to work in a café or a bar — anywhere I’d actually be around people again.

Signed,

Hermit

Dear Hermit,

Reading your letter, I was reminded of a recent finding by the U.S. Surgeon General that young people aged 15–24 spend about 70% less time in person with friends than they did 20 years ago. While of course no one factor explains the rise in mental health challenges in young adults, increasing solitude is surely a big one.  

We humans are social creatures. Connection isn’t just a “nice-to-have” — it’s a biological necessity, as vital as food or sleep for long-term wellbeing. So it’s no wonder that remote work, long hours, and city anonymity can leave you feeling flat and unmotivated.

Working from home may be convenient, but it can also quietly chip away at the everyday interactions that keep us feeling alive. For all its flaws, the office used to provide a steady stream of micro-connections: a chat over coffee, shared moments of disappointment or celebration, the simple energy of being around others. Without that, many young professionals find themselves stuck in what is sometimes called a “neurochemical famine” — a kind of social starvation where the brain’s feel-good chemistry (dopamine, serotonin, oxytocin) drops, and stress hormones rise.  

Your intuition is spot on — the jobs you’re fantasising about are really symbols of something deeper: your need for community and shared experience. You don’t necessarily need to quit and move on, but you do need to feed that social hunger.

Try this as a small experiment: if your company has an office, start going in a few days a week, and let your teammates know you’ll be there. You might be surprised how many others are silently craving the same connection. Offer to grab lunch or suggest something for after hours.

And beyond work, seek out group spaces that fit your natural interests — running clubs, book circles, volunteer projects, or creative meet-ups. Ignore the voice that says, “I’m too tired.” That tiredness is part of the problem. As the poet David Whyte reminds us, 'The cure for exhaustion is not necessarily rest. The cure for exhaustion is wholeheartedness.’ It’s not sleep you need, it’s more life.

Finally, don’t underestimate the tiny, everyday gestures — the quick chat with a barista, a kind word to a stranger, the simple warmth of a “hello.” Small as they seem, those micro-connections can reawaken a more social side of you that has gone quiet. 

You don’t have to rebuild your whole life overnight — just begin feeding it, one shared human moment at a time.

Yours,

Kelly