Loneliness isn’t just isolation: reflections on connection and change

Hi, I’m Omar, the founder and CEO of Kinnect. This blog is part of the "From Omar" series, where I share my reflections on family, relationships, and the memories we carry. These aren’t polished —

When I think about loneliness, I don't just think about isolation. It’s not just people living alone in apartments or quiet neighborhoods. Loneliness is in the crowds. It’s in the people standing next to you on the train, sitting across from you at dinner, or scrolling next to you on the couch.

The stats on loneliness are hard to shake: 1 in 3 people feel alone, and 58% of Americans say no one knows them. That means, in any given space, most people around you could feel unseen, unknown, or just... disconnected.

It’s not hard to believe when you think about it. People assume loneliness only happens to those who are physically isolated, but that’s not true. I think about my grandma. She’s one of the happiest people I know and lives alone. But she’s not lonely. She has her rhythms, phone calls, and ways of staying connected. She’s found her ways of maintaining relationships, even if they aren’t constant or traditional.

On the flip side, I see people constantly "connected" through social media, scrolling, commenting, and liking—but still, they feel lonely. It’s a different kind of isolation—feeling surrounded by people and still completely alone. And that version of loneliness feels harder to fix.

The illusion of connection in a "connected" world

It’s easy to assume that people would feel more connected with social media, FaceTime, and endless group chats than ever. But that’s not happening. If anything, it feels like people are lonelier.

Social media has created these echo chambers where you’re surrounded by people who only reflect your thoughts and beliefs. It makes you feel like your only "real friends" are the ones who agree with you. And when you step outside of that echo chamber, everything feels loud, aggressive, and uninviting. It’s hard to feel safe or understood in those spaces.

At the same time, social media makes communication feel transactional. You see your friend's post, leave a comment, and move on. But does that feel like a connection? Does that help you feel seen? Not really.

The way people engage online makes it harder to have actual face-to-face conversations. You show up with all these surface-level updates from everyone’s stories, but it doesn’t leave room for curiosity or discovery. You know too much but still don't know anything about them.

When I think about "connection" versus "communication," I realize they’re different. Seeing someone’s story or post doesn’t mean you’re connecting with them. If anything, it’s making us more passive. It’s like, “Oh, I saw their life update. I’m caught up.” But catching up isn’t the same as being close.

Loneliness isn’t isolation. It’s disconnection.

I keep coming back to this idea: loneliness doesn’t mean you’re physically alone. It means you’re disconnected.

That’s why I think it’s so important to reframe what loneliness looks like. We’re all walking around thinking loneliness is just "people with no one to talk to," — but it’s more complicated than that.

There are people in big families, surrounded by loved ones, who feel lonelier than people who live alone. There are people with 2,000 "friends" on social media who feel lonelier than my grandma, who lives alone but still talks to her neighbor and calls her family once a week.

Disconnection occurs when relationships feel shallow. It occurs when it takes too much effort to reach out or when it feels easier to "like" a post than send a real message. It happens when disagreements are treated like reasons to cut people off instead of working through them.

What’s wild to me is that disconnection isn’t about distance. It’s about effort, engagement, and people choosing to put in the time, energy, and patience to stay connected.

That’s something I think about a lot — how connection requires effort, and effort is something people are struggling with right now.

The cost of disconnection

Here’s the part that sticks with me the most: The cost of disconnection isn’t just emotional. It’s physical. It’s health-related.

Studies show that loneliness is as bad for your health as smoking 15 cigarettes a day. It increases the risk of heart disease, dementia, and other chronic conditions. It weakens your immune system. It impacts your mental health.

And here’s the hardest part — it’s a self-fulfilling cycle. When you feel lonely, you withdraw. You retreat. You convince yourself that people don't want to hear from you. And the longer you stay in that state, the harder it gets to come out of it.

I think about how many people are in that loop right now. People who feel too awkward to reach out because “it’s been too long.” People who don’t want to be "the one" to send the first message. It’s easier to avoid it, to scroll and convince yourself you’re staying connected because you’re watching people’s stories.

But we know that doesn’t work. We know it doesn’t feel the same.

I think a lot about this idea: What happens if we shift people off platforms that don’t help them feel connected?

If you think about all the daily active users on social media right now, that’s a massive number of people scrolling, watching, liking, and feeling disconnected. What if those people were doing something different? What if they were using that same time to engage in something more meaningful — actually to connect?

I think about that shift a lot. What would happen if we redefined what "connection" looks like instead of feeling like "connection" is a photo or a post?

For me, connection means having honest conversations, even awkward ones. It means being able to ask questions like, “Hey, how are you really doing?” and getting an honest answer. It means being in a space where you don’t feel like you have to perform.

The problem with most social platforms is that they’re not built for that. They’re built to keep you scrolling. And it’s not like they’re going to change suddenly. The business model is built on time on site. So, if we want something different, we have to make it.

That’s why I get excited. If people can be guided to shift even 10% of their social media time toward actual connection, we could see a real change. Even if it's small, the ripple effect of that shift could be massive.

I think about this every day as a founder. What if I could be part of that shift? What if I could build something that helps people see the difference between scrolling and connecting? It wouldn’t have to be huge. It wouldn’t have to solve the whole problem. But even a slight shift could be enough to make people feel seen again.

Final thoughts on loneliness

Loneliness isn’t always what we think it is. It’s not just people sitting alone in their apartments, scrolling through TikTok in bed, or sitting at dinner with their friends but feeling miles away.

It’s disconnection. And disconnection is everywhere.

When I think about loneliness now, I try to remember that it’s not just something "other people" are dealing with. It’s me, you, and all of us. But we also have the power to shift—not by "fixing" ourselves but by reconnecting with others.

If one in three people feels alone, it’s happening everywhere. When I walk into a room, I’m probably looking at a room full of people who want to be seen, heard, and understood.

I think that’s something worth building for.

abrazos,
omar