3 min read

Dear you (who feels like a burden),

Dear you (who feels like a burden),

Believe it or not, I think I get it. Surrounded and unseen, full calendar and an empty heart. Mind racing, blood boiling, empty stares into the abyss of existential dread.

How could it be that we simultaneously live in an era of abundant connection and extreme isolation? It is almost as if there is an enemy of our souls, driving us toward the plastic version of community that never satiates.

There’s a rich irony in the increasing loneliness epidemic… in just the last few years, we’ve tipped into a majority-lonely society. Picture this: you are likely surrounded by people who also feel quite isolated, and yet you wonder if you are the only one. 

This makes sense. In a culture that rewards oversharing surface level wins, our losses can go quietly unnoticed. And over time, the story you tell yourself is that no one really cares. Surely no one sees, hears, or understands.

The expedient option is to ignore this uncomfortable feeling and race toward relief via the quickest distractions within reach. We tend to follow the path of least resistance, seeking comfort through short term coping--only to find ourselves back where we started again and again.

Whether an obvious vice or a 'neutral' activity taken to an extreme, so many of our actions are actually avoiding the pain of being alone with our real feelings.

The pretentious badge of busyness is a poison to authentic human connection. And yet, too many of us continue to bury ourselves in more and more commitments, quietly suffering from disconnection. 

If there were a simple antidote to this crisis of our generation, I imagine it would fly off the shelves with record demand. And though it is hiding in plain sight as we're surrounded by crowds of lonely people, we stumble along day after day searching anywhere but one another.

Perhaps this is why therapy/companionship has now become the #1 use case for generative AI in 2025 according to a recent Harvard study.

When I read this study and subsequent articles about how many humans are turning to AI for their loneliness, it actually made the pit of my stomach churn. In my view, the question is not whether this nascent technology can understand and help in some way, but rather why are humans turning away from each other and toward AI?

Character.ai, a platform I've actually used to have inspiring philosophical conversations with a C.S. Lewis archetype, now reports sessions are stretching as long as 45 minutes... significantly beyond the length of average human interactions.

While the novelty and advantages of an ever-present, ever-patient AI to chat with are obvious, I cannot help but wonder what this is doing to our brains. Humans are hardwired for eye-to-eye, face-to-face human interaction (see some of this research here).

The path of least resistance is not always the better way.
Rupture and repair is part of the human experience.
You deserve more than a chatbot.
You deserve to be truly seen and understood.
Everyone deserves to be heard.


As an aspiring Chief Listening Officer and recovering perfectionist, I’ve decided recently to try something audacious.

In my twenties I heard this quote from a hardcore missionary risking his life for a cause he believed in. Turns out Jim Whittaker, the first American to summit Everest adapted this phrase as well.

If you’re not living a life on the edge, you're taking up too much space. - Jim Whittaker
If you’re not living a life on the edge, you're taking up too much space.
- Jim Whittaker, first American to summit Everest.

Instead of sitting idly by watching our generation decrease in life expectancy, I've decided to move toward the edge. I don't know exactly where this journey will lead, but I'm getting married to the problem.

I've quietly launched v0.1 of trylistener.com, an MVP to validate some my earliest hunches around the importance of human connection in response to the loneliness epidemic. You can sign up for a session today with yours truly– no judgment, no advice, and no chatbots.

Ready to move toward the edge with me? Become a Listener Fellow and help pioneer a movement of presence over performance, connection over convenience.