Emotionships
How expanding your social circle can improve your mental health
“How do each of us handle solitude?” I asked my graduate students.
I was teaching via Zoom. We had reached the end of Fall 2020. I had never met my students in person. However, the class size was small enough for us to have built a sense of familiarity and comfort with each other. Our discussions had been lively and thought-provoking despite the absence of real life interaction.
My students had read a fascinating study published in Science for class. In the 2014 study, Wilson and colleagues found that in the absence of having something to do, people find it intolerable to be alone with their thoughts. In fact, some people would rather give themselves an electric shock than have to engage with their own thoughts.
One student said that she lived with her partner, but still felt lonely at times. She had made an arrangement with two of her best friends from college to video call on a weekly basis. Another student shared that she lived by herself with her dog for company and was doing quite well on her own. Yet another student mentioned that she had formed a “pandemic bubble” with two other close friends. Each person was handling the social isolation amidst the pandemic differently.
As my students shared their experiences, I began thinking about my own situation.
Living alone is not new to me. I have done it for the past 8 years in the US. But, living alone in a pandemic was different. My partner, parents, sister, aunt, and uncle, are scattered in different parts of the world. Although nothing about my personal situation had changed, the international travel restrictions removed the possibility of traveling. There was no choice in the matter anymore. The uncertainty of when I would see my family (who I am very close to) again, which is always a part of my daily existence in the US, became a tangible entity.
Did I feel lonely? Did my own thoughts overwhelm me?
No.
The conversation with my students made me curious about why I did not. As I began sharing my own experience with my students, I found myself bringing up a study published in Social Psychological and Personality Science by Cheung and colleagues. The study introduced a new term — emotionships. I felt that it perfectly captured why being alone with my thoughts amidst the pandemic had not been unbearable.
In their 2015 study, Cheung and colleagues found two things. One, people could identify relationships they felt helped them manage a variety of difficult emotions (e.g., sadness, anger, anxiety) — the researchers called this emotionships. Two, people who relied on multiple social connections to handle their difficult emotions were psychologically in a better place than those who relied on a few close relationships for support. They were better able to manage negative emotional experiences.
As I mentally reviewed my weeks and days, I found myself resonating with the message of this published study. I spoke to my partner over video calls every day. I scheduled a whole family call over Zoom every week. But, more importantly I made time to connect with friends beyond my close social circle.
I spoke to friends I had grown up with in Kolkata (India). I caught up with friends I had made in New Delhi (India) where I had pursued my Master’s degree. I chatted regularly with friends who had become my second family during my time in Columbus (Ohio) as a PhD student. Occasionally, I even met up with and became closer to my new friends in Lexington (Kentucky), where I now live. The range of people I had kept in touch with over the years showed me how the diverse relationships I had invested in, across different points of time in my life, helped me from spiraling into the deep discomfort of social isolation.
Each person in my social circle helps me manage my difficult emotions in unique ways. Some are great at letting me vent when I am angry but also getting me to see the bigger picture through deep conversations. Some are adept at acknowledging my sadness and helping me find joy. Some are excellent at hearing out my anxieties and supporting me till I feel ready to take on new challenges.
But, I do not think one person can do all of this for me. At least not all of the time. And certainly no one can do all of this without feeling fatigued. I know, I cannot.
I am not suggesting that quantity matters over quality. If you have a few close social relationships which give you satisfaction. That is great. But, forging new relationships that may fulfill you in specific ways could be better for you and your inner social circle. This could mean making a friend you just enjoy discovering new coffee shops with, or a friend you only enjoy deep philosophical discussions with, or a friend you simply enjoy watching movies with. These connections may seemingly not be “deep” but can nourish each of your souls in ways neither of you consciously recognize.
As a child, I wanted to have one best friend. In college, I bought into the idea of finding one soulmate. Books and movies I loved seemed to suggest it was possible to find that one special relationship. But, as my social world burgeoned and I walked into adulthood — my viewpoint changed. I began appreciating the breadth of my social relationships and what each of them bring to my life.
I say “yes” to opportunities to meet new people and invitations to hang out with people I do not know very well. Post-pandemic, I joined a book club that focuses on reading books written by Asian authors. I learned about the book club through an email listserv at the university where I work. This book club brought me in touch with a large group of people I would never meet if I stuck to my usual academic circles. Did I become close friends with everyone I met at the book club? Of course not. But, I did connect with one person at the meeting who shares my South Asian identity. We have different backgrounds — she is American and I am Indian. Our conversations about identity have continued beyond the book club. We share and discuss articles about the complexities of the South Asian immigrant experience with each other. It is our way of saying that we are thinking about each other.
Today, I do not have one best friend or soulmate — I have many. I am happier for it. Time spent engaging with the many wonderful people in my life makes my solitude peaceful.
