
Thenuri Thesara
You stand alone on the beach.
The sky is a heavy gray blanket, the kind that swallows sunlight before it even has a chance to shine. The air tastes like salt and distant rain. Beneath your bare feet, the sand shifts along with the slow pull of the tide, steady, relentless. It drags back memories of friendships that once clung to you like seaweed but have since slipped away, leaving footprints that fade faster than you want them to.
Somewhere nearby, laughter carries across the water.
Groups of people splash and shout, joy flickering like little reflections dancing on the sea’s surface. You watch them, a familiar mix of longing and discomfort twisting in your chest. You want to be there. Really be there, but the words “I need a friend” feel like they’ve lodged somewhere behind your ribcage.
Saying it out loud feels like stepping into this vast, exposed shoreline without a life vest. As if admitting you’re lonely means confessing to failure.
But why?
Why does something every human need connection, to feel like something we must apologize for?
Loneliness Is a Tide, not a Choice
Loneliness rarely arrives with a dramatic wave.
It sneaks in quietly, like the tide rising while you’re distracted by the horizon. One moment you think you’re “fine,” the next you find yourself chest-deep in a heaviness you can’t explain.
Maybe you’ve typed into Google late at night:
You wouldn’t be the only one. Millions of us search for the same answers, the same reassurance that needing friends doesn’t make us broken.
Because here’s the truth:
Loneliness isn’t a personal flaw.
It’s a human signal, like thirst or hunger.
Yet, in adulthood, it becomes wrapped in shame.
The Shame of Wanting Connection
Society loves the myth of the self-sufficient individual, strong, independent, unbothered. We’re told:
“You should be enough on your own.”
As if needing others is weakness.
As if vulnerability is something to hide.
Psychologists call this loneliness stigma the belief that if you’re lonely, there must be something wrong with you. That mindset becomes the undertow pulling at your self-worth, making it harder to reach out even when your heart is quietly aching for connection.
So instead, you:
You say “I’m busy” when what you really mean is
“Please don’t forget me.”
But Vulnerability Is Not a Flaw
It takes incredible strength to admit:
“I need somebody.”
That isn’t desperation, it’s an act of courage. It’s choosing to hope over fear.
Think of every friendship you’ve ever had. Each one started with a tiny spark of vulnerability:
A question.
A laugh.
A shared moment.
A small message that said, “I want you in my world.”
Reaching out is like pushing a small boat into the ocean, knowing the waves could push it back or carry it somewhere beautiful.
The Individualistic Tide We’re Swimming Against
In a world that celebrates productivity, self-branding, hustle, and curated perfection, friendship often isn’t seen as essential. It becomes optional. A side quest.
Social media intensifies the illusion:
Everyone else seems surrounded by love and belonging, sunset beach photos, group brunches, birthday captions full of inside jokes.
Meanwhile, your loneliness feels like a private storm.
But those perfect snapshots?
They don’t show the hard parts:
Being human has always been messier than our online lives allow us to admit.
Turning Toward Connection Instead of Away
Look around that beach again.
Maybe you notice someone sitting alone on driftwood, staring at the same horizon. Maybe a small group fits together imperfectly, letting laughter cover their nerves. Maybe someone walking by glances your way with the same quiet hope that you might say hello.
Sometimes the people you think are surrounded by connection are also whispering:
“I need a friend too.”
There are more like you than you think.
People waiting for an invitation to step out of isolation.
Take the First Step, Even If It Trembles
That initial leap into connection will always feel terrifying.
But it’s also the moment everything shifts.
The words you’re afraid to say might be the very ones someone else has been hoping to hear.
Imagine yourself walking closer to the tide.
The sand still shifts, yes, but now it moves with you not against you. The cold air doesn’t bite as sharply. The weight in your chest loosens. The ocean no longer feels like a threat but like a path forward.
And the laughter you once watched from afar?
It starts to sound like a welcome.
Connection Begins with Permission
Friendship isn’t built on perfection.
It’s built on:
You deserve people who celebrate your presence.
You deserve conversations that stretch into the night.
You deserve belonging. Not someday, but now.
We are wired for connection.
We crave it the same way the sea reaches for the shore, again and again and again.
So, Say It Out Loud
“I need a friend.”
Not because you are weak.
Not because you are failing.
Not because something is wrong with you.
But because you are human.
And humans are not meant to face the world alone.
The ocean is vast.
So are the possibilities for connection.
All you have to do is take that brave step toward the water, toward someone else and let the tide carry you into the friendships waiting just beyond the shoreline.
You don’t need to earn friendship.
You just need to reach for it.
for connection if you dare to ride its waves.