Marisa Franco
Contemporary
It’s a strange irony of our time, isn't it? You can have a thousand people in your pocket and still feel like you’re drifting in open water. I think the reason you feel this way is that we’ve started confusing "access" with "intimacy." Digital connection is incredibly efficient at moving information, but it’s terrible at moving energy. When you’re talking to someone online, you’re interacting with a representation of them—a curated, flat version of their personality. You lose the micro-expressions, the shared silence, and the simple, grounding physical presence that tells your nervous system you aren’t alone. Data isn't the same thing as company. The problem with being "always on" is that it creates a thin, constant noise that masks the quiet. We use our screens to numb the initial sting of solitude, but in doing so, we never actually reach the depth required for true connection. We’re snacking on social "calories" that don't actually nourish us. You’re likely scrolling through a highlight reel of everyone else’s life while sitting alone with your own messy, unfiltered reality. That gap between their polished image and your private self creates a profound sense of isolation. I want you to consider that your loneliness isn't a malfunction; it’s a signal. It’s your inner self telling you that the digital substitute isn't enough. You crave to be seen, not just viewed. You want to be understood, not just liked. Try to put the phone down for a few hours and embrace the discomfort of that silence. Then, reach out to one person for a real conversation—not a text thread, but a voice on the phone or a face across a table. We weren't built to be nodes in a network; we were built to be presence in a room. Give yourself the grace to step away from the crowd online so you can actually find your way back to your people.
From the council, together
## Why do Marisa Franco's insights suggest we feel lonely despite our digital connections? In an era where we are constantly tethered to our devices, the sensation of profound isolation can feel like a confusing paradox. You might spend your entire day exchanging messages, scrolling through social media updates, and participating in virtual meetings, yet still end the evening with a hollow ache of loneliness. From my psychological perspective, focused on the science of attachment and connection, this discrepancy arises because digital interaction often lacks the essential ingredients of true belonging. Human beings are evolutionarily wired for presence, shared vulnerability, and the nuanced cues of physical proximity that a screen simply cannot replicate. We often fall into the trap of 'passive consumption,' where we watch the lives of others without engaging in the active, reciprocal exchange that builds intimacy. This digital tethering can create a thinning of our social fabric, replacing high-stakes emotional investment with low-effort visibility. To bridge this gap, we must understand that connection is not a passive byproduct of being online; it is an intentional act of showing up and being known. Loneliness in a connected world is often a signal that while our data is being shared, our authentic selves remain hidden. By exploring how we can translate digital noise into meaningful communal bonds, we begin to heal the friction between our online visibility and our internal need for genuine, secure attachment. It’s a strange irony of our time, isn't it? You can have a thousand people in your pocket and still feel like you’re drifting in open water. I think the reason you feel this way is that we’ve started confusing "access" with "intimacy." Digital connection is incredibly efficient at moving information, but it’s terrible at moving energy. When you’re talking to someone online, you’re interacting with a representation of them—a curated, flat version of their personality. You lose the micro-expressions, the shared silence, and the simple, grounding physical presence that tells your nervous system you aren’t alone. Data isn't the same thing as company. The problem with being "always on" is that it creates a thin, constant noise that masks the quiet. We use our screens to numb the initial sting of solitude, but in doing so, we never actually reach the depth required for true connection. We’re snacking on social "calories" that don't actually nourish us. You’re likely scrolling through a highlight reel of everyone else’s life while sitting alone with your own messy, unfiltered reality. That gap between their polished image and your private self creates a profound sense of isolation. I want you to consider that your loneliness isn't a malfunction; it’s a signal. It’s your inner self telling you that the digital substitute isn't enough. You crave to be seen, not just viewed. You want to be understood, not just liked. Try to put the phone down for a few hours and embrace the discomfort of that silence. Then, reach out to one person for a real conversation—not a text thread, but a voice on the phone or a face across a table. We weren't built to be nodes in a network; we were built to be presence in a room. Give yourself the grace to step away from the crowd online so you can actually find your way back to your people.
Common questions
- ### Why is social media making me feel more lonely?
- I often find that social media encourages social comparison rather than social connection. When you scroll, you are engaging in passive consumption, which lacks the 'mutuality' required for a healthy bond. From my perspective, loneliness stems from a lack of being truly seen. On these platforms, we often perform a curated version of ourselves, which prevents the vulnerability needed for secure attachment. To feel less lonely, you need to move from being a spectator of other people's lives to an active participant in shared emotional experiences that happen in real-time.
- How can I turn online friends into real life friends?
- Turning a digital acquaintance into a real-life friend requires what I call 'initiative.' We often suffer from a 'prophecy of rejection,' assuming others don't want to meet, but research shows people are generally more open than we think. I suggest being the one to reach out and suggest a specific time and place. By taking the lead, you break the cycle of passive waiting. Shared physical space allows for 'micromoments' of connection—like eye contact and shared laughter—that solidify a bond much faster than years of exchanging intermittent text messages ever could.
- Is it normal to feel isolated even when I'm in group chats?
- Yes, it is very common because group chats often prioritize 'low-stakes' chatter over deep intimacy. I view these as digital watercoolers; they provide a sense of belonging to a tribe, but they rarely satisfy the need for individual validation. If you feel isolated in a group, it may be because your specific emotional needs aren't being met by the collective noise. I recommend pulling individuals from that group for one-on-one conversations. Intimacy is built in the dyad—the two-person exchange—where you can be more vulnerable without the audience of the larger group.
- Can video calls replace the need for in person hanging out?
- While video calls are a step up from texting because they offer facial expressions and tone of voice, they aren't a perfect substitute. In my work, I emphasize the importance of 'embodied' connection. When we are physically present, our nervous systems co-regulate in ways that a screen inhibits. However, if distance is a factor, I suggest making video calls more 'active' by doing an activity together, like cooking or playing a game. This mimics the 'side-by-side' bonding that occurs in real life, making the digital experience feel more substantial and less draining.
- What is the best way to deal with loneliness right now?
- The best way to combat loneliness is to practice 'assumed interest.' Walk into your interactions assuming that people like you and want to connect. This mindset shifts your behavior from defensive to warm and open, which naturally draws people in. Loneliness often makes us hyper-vigilant for signs of rejection, causing us to withdraw. If you feel lonely today, I encourage you to send one appreciative text to someone you value. By expressing gratitude and showing that you are thinking of them, you ignite the reciprocity that is the heartbeat of all lasting psychological connections.