Beyond Loneliness: Defining Alonetude as a Third Way of Being Alone

For much of my adult life, I believed that being alone was something to manage rather than something to understand. Like many people shaped by caregiving roles, professional responsibility, and constant availability, I learned to associate aloneness with either failure or escape. To be alone for too long was suspect. To seek it deliberately required justification.

Figure: Beyond Loneliness

Credit: NotebookLM, 2026

This tension has only intensified in recent years. Public discourse now frames loneliness as a public health crisis, with good reason. A growing body of research links chronic loneliness to increased risk of depression, cardiovascular illness, cognitive decline, and early mortality (Cacioppo & Cacioppo, 2018; Holt-Lunstad et al., 2015). Indeed, a meta-analysis of 148 studies involving more than 300,000 participants found that stronger social relationships were associated with a 50% higher likelihood of survival (Holt-Lunstad et al., 2010).

Yet alongside this concern runs another, quieter exhaustion: many people feel overwhelmed by constant connection, by the expectation of perpetual responsiveness, and by the emotional labour of being continually available.

We are caught between two unsatisfying stories about being alone.

On one side lies loneliness, understood as a painful, unwanted disconnection. On the other hand lies romanticized solitude, idealized as a rarefied retreat available only to those with time, money, or particular personality traits. During my research and lived inquiry, I came to believe that this binary is incomplete. There is a third way of being alone that is neither deprivation nor escape. I call this way alonetude.

Defining Alonetude

Alonetude is a cultivated, sustainable relationship with one’s own company. It is the capacity to be peacefully and intentionally alone without collapsing into loneliness or relying on fantasy versions of solitude. Alonetude does not describe a place or a retreat. It represents a way of being.

Unlike solitude, which is a neutral description of physical aloneness, alonetude refers to an inner condition. One can be physically alone without experiencing alonetude, and one can experience alonetude in the presence of others. It is not defined by isolation, but by relationship: specifically, the relationship one has with oneself. Recent qualitative research confirms that both laypeople and researchers distinguish between objective solitude (physical separation from others) and subjective solitude (mental disengagement from social demands), with the latter possible even in public spaces (Weinstein et al., 2023a).

This distinction matters because much of the harm associated with being alone arises not from aloneness itself, but from the meanings we attach to it. Loneliness, as defined in the literature, is the subjective distress that results from a perceived gap between desired and actual connection (Perlman & Peplau, 1981). Solitude, by contrast, describes the absence of immediate social contact. Aloneness refers to what can arise when solitude is approached with choice, care, and presence.

Choice, Autonomy, and the Conditions for Alonetude

One of the most consistent findings in psychological research is that the quality of time spent alone depends less on personality and more on motivation. Research grounded in Self-Determination Theory demonstrates that solitude supports well-being when it is volitional and values-aligned, and undermines well-being when it is imposed or avoidant (Ryan & Deci, 2017; Nguyen et al., 2018). A 21-day diary study of 178 adults found that the detrimental effects of solitude on loneliness and life satisfaction were nullified or reduced when daily solitude was autonomous, that is, chosen rather than imposed (Weinstein et al., 2023b).

This insight reshaped my own assumptions. I had long believed that comfort with being alone was a matter of introversion. The research suggests otherwise. Three experimental studies by Nguyen et al. (2018) found that autonomous motivation for solitude predicted positive outcomes regardless of participants’ levels of introversion. When people choose solitude for reasons such as restoration, reflection, or creativity, they tend to experience greater emotional regulation and clarity. When solitude is driven by fear, exclusion, or obligation, it often intensifies distress.

Alonetude emerges under conditions of autonomy. It is not something one forces; instead, one allows it by choosing to remain present with oneself rather than immediately seeking distraction or validation.

The Body’s Role in Being Alone Well

Another central insight from my research is that alonetude is not primarily a cognitive achievement. It is a physiological one.
Polyvagal Theory offers a helpful lens here. According to this framework, the autonomic nervous system continuously scans for cues of safety or threat through a process called neuroception—detection that occurs below conscious awareness and shapes emotional and relational capacity (Porges, 2011). When the body perceives a threat, the sympathetic nervous system mobilizes the fight-or-flight response, and being alone can feel agitating or unbearable.

When the body experiences safety through activation of the ventral vagal pathway, quiet becomes accessible.
This distinction explains why simply telling oneself that solitude is “good” rarely works. Felt safety cannot be reasoned into existence. It is established through rhythm, gentleness, predictability, and sensory cues that the body recognizes as regulating. Only when the nervous system settles does reflective capacity return.

In this sense, alonetude is an embodied practice. It develops through repeated experiences of staying present long enough for the body to register safety, rather than through insight alone.

Alonetude and Relational Capacity

A common concern is that time alone weakens social bonds. My findings suggest the opposite. When individuals cultivate a stable, companionable relationship with themselves, they often return to others with greater attentiveness and emotional availability.

This aligns with research suggesting that positive solitude correlates with enhanced intimacy rather than diminished connection (Long & Averill, 2003). In their foundational exploration of solitude’s benefits, Long and Averill identified intimacy as one of four key benefits—alongside freedom, creativity, and spirituality —and noted that time alone can deepen rather than diminish our capacity for closeness. The relational ethicists Carol Gilligan (1982) and Nel Noddings (1984) similarly argue that secure self-connection supports healthier interpersonal engagement. Alonetude strengthens what I describe as relational capacity: the ability to engage with others without losing oneself, over-functioning, or seeking constant reassurance.

From this perspective, alonetude does not compete with connection. It prepares the ground for it.

Loneliness as a Visitor, Not a Failure

Alonetude does not eliminate loneliness. Even within chosen solitude, moments of missing others still arise. The difference lies in how these moments are met.

When loneliness is approached with presence rather than avoidance, it often reveals itself as evidence of attachment and care rather than deficiency. It signals what matters. Research on emotion regulation supports this approach, suggesting that allowing emotional states to be experienced without immediate suppression supports long-term well-being (Gross, 2015). Attempts to suppress or avoid emotions are counterproductive, whereas acceptance and reappraisal facilitate adaptive processing.

In this sense, loneliness is not the opposite of alonetude. It is part of the terrain one learns to walk with steadiness.

Alonetude as a Gentle Discipline

Developing alonetude requires what I call the discipline of staying. This is not discipline as rigidity or endurance, but discipline as devotion. It is the repeated choice to remain present with oneself rather than immediately filling silence or discomfort.

This practice echoes contemplative traditions while remaining accessible in everyday life. Alonetude is cultivated not through withdrawal from responsibility, but through small, consistent acts of attention: staying with a morning cup of tea, allowing quiet to stretch a little longer, noticing the impulse to distract and choosing to pause instead.

Over time, these practices create an inner refuge that can be carried into the noise of daily life.

Coming Home to Oneself

Alonetude is not a destination reached once and for all. It is a relationship developed over time. It allows a person to move through the world without constant self-abandonment, to be with others without depletion, and to return to oneself as a place of steadiness.

As I continue to write and research in this area, I find myself returning to a simple question that now guides much of my work:

What if home is not only a place we return to, but a relationship we learn to inhabit within ourselves?

Created by NotebookLM , 2026

References

Cacioppo, J. T., & Cacioppo, S. (2018). The growing problem of loneliness. The Lancet, 391(10119), 426. https://doi.org/10.1016/S0140-6736(18)30142-9

Gilligan, C. (1982). In a different voice: Psychological theory and women’s development. Harvard University Press.

Gross, J. J. (2015). Emotion regulation: Current status and future prospects. Psychological Inquiry, 26(1), 1–26. https://doi.org/10.1080/1047840X.2014.940781

Holt-Lunstad, J., Smith, T. B., Baker, M., Harris, T., & Stephenson, D. (2015). Loneliness and social isolation as risk factors for mortality: A meta-analytic review. Perspectives on Psychological Science, 10(2), 227–237. https://doi.org/10.1177/1745691614568352

Holt-Lunstad, J., Smith, T. B., & Layton, J. B. (2010). Social relationships and mortality risk: A meta-analytic review. PLOS Medicine, 7(7), Article e1000316. https://doi.org/10.1371/journal.pmed.1000316

Long, C. R., & Averill, J. R. (2003). Solitude: An exploration of the benefits of being alone. Journal for the Theory of Social Behaviour, 33(1), 21–44. https://doi.org/10.1111/1468-5914.00204

Nguyen, T. T., Ryan, R. M., & Deci, E. L. (2018). Solitude as an approach to affective self-regulation. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 44(1), 92–106. https://doi.org/10.1177/0146167217733073

Noddings, N. (1984). Caring: A feminine approach to ethics and moral education. University of California Press.

Perlman, D., & Peplau, L. A. (1981). Toward a social psychology of loneliness. In S. Duck & R. Gilmour (Eds.), Personal relationships in disorder (pp. 31–56). Academic Press.

Porges, S. W. (2011). The polyvagal theory: Neurophysiological foundations of emotions, attachment, communication, and self-regulation. W. W. Norton.

Ryan, R. M., & Deci, E. L. (2017). Self-determination theory: Basic psychological needs in motivation, development, and wellness. Guilford Press.

Weinstein, N., Hansen, H., & Nguyen, T.-V. (2023a). Definitions of solitude in everyday life. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 49(8), 1185–1200. https://doi.org/10.1177/01461672221115941

Weinstein, N., Vuorre, M., Adams, M., & Nguyen, T.-V. (2023b). Balance between solitude and socializing: Everyday solitude time both benefits and harms well-being. Scientific Reports, 13, Article 21160. https://doi.org/10.1038/s41598-023-44507-7

Author: amytucker

Weytk. I am Amy Tucker, an educator whose life has been shaped by questions of belonging, precarity, and the institutions that hold us or let us fall. I was the first person in my family to attend university. By the time I was twenty-five, I was a single mother of three, working at a donut shop, taking courses part-time when I could afford them, learning what it means to calculate whether you can afford both groceries and textbooks. Those years taught me things about resilience and systemic exclusion that no textbook could convey. They also taught me that the academy is simultaneously a site of possibility and a space where people like me were never quite expected to arrive. For twenty-five years, I have worked in education, including eighteen years at Thompson Rivers University on the unceded territory of the Tk'emlúps te Secwépemc within Secwépemcúl'ecw. Seventeen of those years have been as a contract faculty member, teaching organisational behaviour, business ethics, strategic leadership, teamwork, creativity and innovation, and human resources. I also serve as Prior Learning Assessment Advisor, guiding learners to recognise and document the knowledge they carry from lived experience. My pedagogy draws from trauma-informed education, Indigenous methodologies, and humanities theory, approaching each subject as a human question shaped by power, meaning, and the knowledge systems we choose to honour. I am currently completing my Doctor of Social Sciences at Royal Roads University, with defence expected in early Winter 2026. My dissertation, Through Our Eyes: A Photovoice Study of Belonging, Precarity, and Possibility with International Students in Higher Education, employs participatory visual methodology to document how international business students experience and theorise the gap between institutional inclusion rhetoric and lived belonging. The research integrates sociology, leadership, communication, ethics, and higher education studies, grounded in what I call asymmetrical precarity: a recognition that precarities can rhyme without being identical, enabling solidarity without appropriation. I serve as Chair of the Non-Regular Faculty Committee for the Federation of Post-Secondary Educators of BC, advocating for sessional and contract educators whose resilience too often subsidises institutional failures they never created. This work is inseparable from my scholarship: both are forms of witnessing, naming, and refusing to accept conditions that diminish human dignity. My research interests include academic precarity, equity and inclusion in post-secondary institutions, labour in higher education, community-based and participatory methodologies, trauma-informed pedagogy, AI ethics, and leadership in crisis. I seek an interdisciplinary postdoctoral position, doctoral fellowship, or qualitative research project to continue this work. Beyond academia, I am a monthly columnist for The Kamloops Chronicle and a regular book reviewer for The British Columbia Review. I represent Team Canada in age-group triathlon and am a long-distance open-water swimmer, finding in endurance sport the same lessons I find in scholarship: that meaningful work requires patience, that discomfort is often the pathway to transformation, and that we are capable of more than we imagine when we refuse to quit. I carry within me threads of French ancestry reaching back to Acadian territory, a distant Mi'kmaq connection I hold with curiosity and respect rather than claim, and an Austrian grandfather who crossed an ocean knowing that belonging must be made rather than assumed. These inheritances shape how I understand identity, territory, and the ethics of conducting research and teaching on Indigenous lands. I believe the classroom remains the most radical space of possibility in the academy. I believe research should serve transformation. And I believe that belonging, when it comes, is made rather than given. Kukwstsétsemc.

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