“He who has friends has no friend” 
Diogenes Laertius
The busy roads of Strood connect my journey to Rochester High Street. The traffic lights dance their red-orange-green routine in front of my super-focused eyes. I stop to let people cross the road and notice two young men walking across the street, carrying a huge box on their shoulders. The music speaker - it’s written right on it. Their faces glow with bright smiles, their steps light and bouncy. It seems to me like they are walking on clouds. They are so happy with the purchase. Or are they? Underneath the exterior, there is a human connection - that’s what they are experiencing through this simple shopping deal.
I park my car and start walking to my consultation room through the castle gardens, where I notice two boys playing with a ball. They laugh out loud, joyfully catching and throwing it to each other. Is this joy really about the ball? Well, they are experiencing real and honest human connection. It’s not about the music speaker and it’s not about the ball - the laughter, the joy and the smiles are all about feeling connected.
Have you ever experienced sitting with a group of people, or even your own friends, and feeling lonely? You aren’t physically alone, yet that crushing feeling of loneliness sits right there with you. That same loneliness raises a glass and cheers everyone in the room. That same loneliness responds, “I’m fine. All is good!” to the cliché question, “How are you? Haven’t seen you for a while!” You probably feel it in your eyeballs - that pressure of tears building up - and you swallow it with a strange sense of satisfaction that you were able to hold yourself together in one piece. Sadly, loneliness doesn’t go away. Why? Maybe because those connections are performative; maybe for many years you haven’t felt listened to, heard or cared for in your friendships or your romantic relationships. Yet you’ve denied it because the truth can hurt, and who wants to find themselves lost in a complete void - alone and lonely? Well, that’s scary. Denial sometimes feels like an easier option, but at what cost?
I grab a latte from the local café - my ritual to recharge and decompress - and sit in my office watching the trains pass by. How does it feel for those commuters to wake up early, spend an hour or more on a journey to work and return home in the evening? Exhausting, frustrating, sad or lonely? Or perhaps positive, too: relaxed, satisfied, motivated? Have you ever been one of those commuters? How have you felt?
If this style of life genuinely works for you, I get it, and there is no judgment here - everyone needs to find what works for them authentically. But if that daily grind leaves you feeling hollow, it's worth paying attention to.
I remember when I used to work in Central London: catching packed trains, counting minutes until the next tube, squeezing in, running out to make it on time because, of course, there were delays and cancellations. Every day - 7 AM till 8 PM, five days a week - for so many years that I lost count. My dominant emotions at that time were frustration and loneliness. I wasn't technically alone, but it was so difficult to form real connections in that "hamster on a wheel" routine. My frustration stemmed from living a life that wasn’t the right fit for me, just because I thought I had to.
Have you ever allowed yourself to connect with your feelings? What are they telling you? Do you feel lonely in your relationships? It is difficult, almost impossible, to deny this fundamental need for true connection, because your emotions will always show it. Rushing around and occupying yourself with work or house chores acts as a plaster, masking the deep need for connection, care, and love. Who wants to find themselves lost in this void? Let me help you find safety in love and connection.
Warmly,
Gintare
DipCouns. PGCERT in Relationship Counselling, MBACP (Accred)
09/09/2026
