To those feeling lonely in their first year

For a while during my first semester of college, I could not separate Mondays from Tuesdays, Tuesdays from Wednesdays, Wednesdays from Thursdays and so on. My days were a blur of class, some form of lunch from Charles Street Market, studying, dinner and then more studying until midnight at minimum. 

For a while there, too, I felt proud of myself for the routine and discipline I imposed upon myself. I repeatedly told myself that my parents sent me all the way to the States to study, so anything other than my academics and career was a second priority. I deleted all my social media, customized a setting on my phone that would allow no notifications to come through and spent my nights in Brody, away from social events on campus, general body meetings or just getting to know new people. 

I wish I had a cliché line of something like: “Then, there came a life-changing turning point where I realized the value in making more time for friends, studying less, getting on dating apps, and so on and so on.” But the reality is, there is no true quick fix for feeling lonely, especially when all of us are still getting used to adulting and being away from home while balancing incredibly difficult courseloads. Most of my time is still, in fact, spent by myself. 

What truly separates me today from me a year ago is the realization that there is a difference between being alone and being lonely. It’s a difference I had to learn. When I first got to college, I didn’t know what worked for me. No one knows what works for them when they first get to college: It’s a universal experience. At such a rigorous school like Hopkins, it is only that much easier to feel lost and small.

My key to getting over loneliness during the day is love. Not finding-a-significant-other love, but spending my entire day doing what I love. I find love in my research, so I never feel lonely when I have lab to look forward to every day. I find love in the kids I meet at the pediatric oncology clinic at the hospital or at summer camps. I find love in teaching, running through San Martin Drive chasing the sunset or writing articles. When you fill your day with what you love, even when you are alone, the loneliness starts to go away.  

You will have to learn, at some point, how to be alone. Making time for your friends and your community is essential, but there comes a time when you will have to go to the library alone, you will have to sit alone at the dinner table and you might even spend a weekend by yourself. But there is value in finding a routine to settle into. Surround yourself with the beauty of just being you and falling in love over and over again with whatever you do. 

Then, on weekends or on long nights when your love fails you, and you can’t seem to find meaning in your own company, surround yourself with those who love you. Don’t be afraid to ask for love when you need it. There’s nothing wrong with having a big group of friends. There’s also nothing wrong with having one friend. Spend your time with people who you know will give you the love and warmth you deserve — trust me, you will need it one of these days. 

One of the easiest ways for me to seek love and warmth in others is by being vulnerable. By that I don’t mean trauma-dumping and oversharing vulnerable stories (although if it works, it works), I mean admitting to a classmate that you need their help, being comfortable with sharing your culture or faith at general body meetings and being proactive in finding people you truly want around you. Don’t be afraid to make connections. Say what you feel. Be honest. And you will find the most beautiful souls at Hopkins: those who will hear you and love you, even when you cannot love, even when you cannot find meaning, even when you think you have failed yourself. 

Something I learned after a year of routine is you often find people within the routine — just search for them. I found my closest friends by reaching out to them for help with classes. When research gets difficult and I’m driven to my wits’ end, I find the strength to keep going in the people at my lab and the nice security lady at my building. In afternoons when I feel as though I have no purpose, making children smile and laugh in the playroom reminds me why I’m here. There are wonderful connections waiting to be made in every corner of your life — they just need you as the catalyst.

Do Mondays still blend into Tuesdays and so on? Yes, absolutely. Most of my days still look the same. But am I as lonely as I was last fall? Probably not, because in my routine, I have learned to love my own company as well as the people who inevitably come with the life I designed. These are people who decorate your life and make your day brighter with their love. When you intentionally look for them, every day is a different adventure, and you will feel that lonely feeling fade.  

I don’t think loneliness ever goes away — it still clings to me from time to time. However, if you allow me to end with a cliché, my biggest advice against loneliness is that even when you think you are alone, you aren’t ever truly alone. Just love, search and turn the other way. 

Katie Truong is a sophomore majoring in Neuroscience from Saigon, Vietnam. She is a Science & Technology Editor for The News-Letter.