Creating Space for Connection, Lonely Club x Projects
- Ethan Phoenix Kentish
- 5 days ago
- 9 min read
Loneliness is not always loud or obvious. It often sits quietly alongside busy diaries, full workdays, and active social lives, hidden in plain sight within modern working life. It is a common, often unspoken experience, and one we still struggle to name or make space for.
That gap is exactly what led Lara, founder of The Lonely Club, to begin creating spaces where loneliness can be talked about openly, without shame or pressure.
1. What led you to create Lonely Club, and why does loneliness need its own space and language?
What led me to create The Lonely Club was realising that a lot of my feelings of “outsider-ness”, lack of belonging and disconnection from others actually came down to loneliness. For a long time, I didn’t have the language for it - I just knew something felt off.
When I started looking into the statistics after the pandemic, I was shocked to see how disproportionately loneliness affects young people in the UK, and the short- and long-term impact it can have on mental, emotional and physical wellbeing. That was a real turning point for me. I realised my experience wasn’t isolated, and that loneliness was something many people were quietly carrying.
The Lonely Club was created as a way to proactively share my story, raise awareness, and do my bit to reduce feelings of loneliness among young people. Loneliness is still such a taboo topic - especially within this age group - and I really believe it needs its own space and language so we can talk about it without shame.
Feeling lonely from time to time is completely normal. By normalising these conversations, we can stop loneliness from becoming something chronic or hidden, and reduce the longer-term impact it can have on our health and wellbeing.
2. How does loneliness commonly show up in adult working life, especially for people who seem socially active?
Loneliness in adult working life often shows up in quite hidden ways, especially for people who appear socially active. It can look like saying yes to every after-work drink, being great at small talk over coffee, or chatting easily at the start of meetings - yet still going home feeling empty, drained or unsatisfied by those interactions.
For many people, work becomes their main source of social contact, but the connections are often surface-level and tied to productivity or performance. If someone has a limited social circle outside of work, they might be “socially busy” but still not having their deeper need for belonging met - something work alone can’t fully provide.
It’s tricky because we spend so much of our time at work, and hustle culture doesn’t always leave much room for balance or connection beyond it. That said, there are things workplaces can do to reduce loneliness, such as offering volunteering days that connect people to the wider community, providing access to therapy, or creating more intentional off-site socials and retreats that encourage deeper reflection and genuine connection rather than just networking.
3. Why is loneliness often overlooked or misunderstood in workplaces?
Loneliness is often overlooked or misunderstood in workplaces because it’s largely invisible. There isn’t one obvious way it presents, and many people who feel lonely are actually very good at masking it and simply “getting on with things.”
In work settings, loneliness can show up in subtle and easily misinterpreted ways. It might look like the high achiever who constantly stays late, the employee who arrives ten minutes late every day, or the person who regularly avoids team lunches by saying they need to run an errand or grab something from the shop. These behaviours are often seen as performance or personality traits, rather than possible signs of disconnection.
The challenge is that loneliness is extremely nuanced and shows up differently for everyone. It can look like overworking or underworking, withdrawing from social interaction or overcompensating within it. Because there’s no single “lonely” behaviour, it’s easy for it to go unnoticed.
That’s why workplaces need to create genuinely safe spaces where employees feel able to express how they’re feeling without fear of judgement. Addressing loneliness isn’t about quick fixes - it requires time, understanding, and intentional systems that allow people to be seen and supported as whole humans, not just workers.
4. What does meaningful connection look like beyond networking or socialising?
Meaningful connection goes far beyond networking or surface-level socialising. It’s about feeling genuinely seen, safe and able to be yourself with another human being - whether that’s one person, a group, or within a wider community.
I often visualise it in colours. There’s a warmth to it, almost like a soft, golden glow around someone when they’re in a room where they truly belong, or when they’re having a conversation that feels real rather than performative. It’s like an invisible string that ties you to other people - something you can’t always explain, but you can absolutely feel.
That kind of connection is invaluable and, in many ways, sacred. It can’t be rushed or manufactured through surface-level networking, quick socials or forced interaction. Meaningful connection needs to be nurtured intentionally, through trust, consistency and shared experiences over time. It doesn’t happen overnight - and that’s exactly why it matters so much.
5. Why do physical spaces still matter for connection in an increasingly digital world?
Physical spaces still matter deeply because, as human beings, we are wired for real human connection. Screens are artificial - they can support connection, but they can’t fully satisfy our deep, intrinsic need to feel seen, felt and to belong.
I often think of the digital world as a kind of quick fix. It’s a bit like sugar: it can feel satisfying in the moment, but if we rely on it too heavily, we end up undernourished, unsatisfied and sometimes even unwell. Without balance, digital connection can’t replace the richness of being physically present with others.
Young people in particular are craving welcoming “third spaces” - places that aren’t home or work, where they can simply exist without pressure or performance. Community centres, churches, local hubs and shared spaces like these are disappearing, at the same time as our lives become more digital.
If we’re serious about addressing loneliness, we need to prioritise physical spaces for connection again. They meet a deep human need - one that technology alone will never be able to replace.
6. What makes the drop-in hub model different from traditional wellbeing or community initiatives?
What makes the drop-in hub model different is that it’s intentionally low-pressure and designed around people’s real, fluctuating needs. Nothing is forced, and no one is expected to participate in a particular way. Even choosing to attend doesn’t come with expectations.
Unlike traditional wellbeing or community events, where there can be an unspoken pressure to join in with everything, the drop-in model is built around autonomy. Someone might sign up on a day when they’re feeling great and craving connection, but arrive feeling drained and still want to be around others without actively talking - and that’s completely okay.
At The Lonely Club drop-in hub, you can come for half an hour, grab a cup of tea, read your book and leave without speaking to a soul. Or you can stay for the full four hours, spend time journalling or reading, chat to a like-minded stranger, join a gentle group activity like a Sunday stroll to the seafront, and dip in and out as you wish. You can also leave at any point. There is absolutely no pressure.
So many traditional events and community initiatives are well-intentioned, but still carry an underlying expectation to “show up” and perform socially. Often, people push themselves to attend once - talking to lots of new people or stepping far outside their comfort zone - but then don’t return. This especially affects people who are socially anxious, neurodivergent, or simply overwhelmed by high-pressure environments.
The drop-in model takes a slower, more sustainable approach. It’s about creating a nurturing, inclusive space where people can show up exactly as they are, in that moment - and keep coming back.
7. What can people expect from the February rooftop evening, particularly if they are coming alone?
People can expect a low-pressure, relaxed space where they’re free to connect, meet new people, or simply sit quietly with a drink and soak up the warm, welcoming atmosphere. There’s absolutely no pressure to talk or socialise - but the option is always there if and when it feels right.
If you do feel like inviting conversation, there’ll be simple conversation cards you can use to gently open up a chat, whether that’s with someone new (who will very likely be coming alone too) or with one of us as event hosts. And if you’d rather just be present without engaging, that’s completely okay.
There’s no expectation to stay for the whole evening, no need to show up in a certain way, and no pressure to perform socially. Even if you leave having not spoken to anyone, that still counts. You showed up - and in my opinion, that’s one of the bravest things someone can do.
Coming alone doesn’t mean you’re alone. That’s exactly what this evening is here to normalise. So many people in Brighton are in the same boat, and this event is about giving people the chance to see that, together.
8. Why is a low-pressure, free-flow format important for conversations around loneliness?
A low-pressure, free-flow format is so important because, for a lot of people, the concept of loneliness feels scary. When we think about loneliness, we’re often presented with a very extreme stereotype - someone completely isolated, struggling deeply with their mental health, unable to leave the house, make friends or hold down a job. That’s the version we see in films, books and the media, and it can make people avoid the conversation altogether.
The reality for so many people looks very different. Most of us are functioning. We show up to work, we socialise, we make plans, we get on with our lives - and yet we still feel a quiet lack of belonging. That everyday experience of loneliness is incredibly common, but rarely talked about.
To normalise this, we need spaces that don’t feel intense, clinical or emotionally demanding. Low-pressure, free-flow formats allow people to gently enter the conversation in their own time, without feeling like they need to label themselves or share more than they’re ready to.
It creates room for those small but powerful “me too” moments - like coming home to a busy house share, chatting and laughing while making dinner, being surrounded by people, yet still going to bed feeling deeply unsatisfied, as though you haven’t quite found your people. When these everyday experiences are shared in relaxed, human spaces, loneliness becomes something we can connect through rather than hide from.
9. What do you hope people feel or think about after leaving the event?
I hope people leave the event feeling even the slightest bit more connected and with a sense of hope - that there are spaces out there where they are truly welcome, where they can start to feel seen and more connected to others.
The idea isn’t to force socialising or push anyone out of their comfort zone. The environment is low-pressure, safe, and relaxed, where connection is gently invited rather than demanded. I hope people leave without feeling judged, without feeling “different,” and with the comforting sense that they’re not alone.
Ideally, they’ll think: “I’m going to give this a go. I’ll attend a drop-in session and just see how I feel. No pressure. I can leave after twenty minutes if I want. There might be people here who truly get it, where I won’t have to perform small talk and can just be myself - this is what I’ve been craving for so long but haven’t been able to put into words.”
Ultimately, I want people to leave with hope - hope that there are spaces for them, that they don’t have to feel like an outsider anymore, and that they really can belong here.
10. If someone is feeling lonely at work right now but unsure where to start, what would you want them to know?
If someone is feeling lonely at work right now but isn’t sure where to start, I want them to know one thing above all: you are not alone. I know it sounds cliché, but it’s the only way I can truly articulate it. There are so many people - colleagues, peers, even those you scroll past on social media - feeling exactly the same way. Like you, they struggle to reach out, put it into words, and often hide behind a high-functioning mask while quietly struggling.
You don’t have to do this anymore. You shouldn’t have to. Work takes up a huge part of your life, and your time there is precious. You deserve to feel a sense of belonging and connection - even if it takes some effort to get there. Most importantly, it’s not your fault. So often, people feel lonely at work and blame themselves, thinking they should be doing more to feel less isolated. The truth is, it’s systemic.
As a society, and as workplaces, we need to prioritise social wellness just as much as perks like free gyms or discounted lunches. Safe spaces for connection, genuine social support, and a culture that acknowledges loneliness will have a huge impact - not just on wellbeing, but on productivity, motivation, and employee retention. Social health can’t be pushed aside anymore.
If you’re unsure where to start, remember it’s not all on you. Talk to your line manager or employer, start advocating for yourself if you can, or simply reach out to a colleague. Small steps matter - sometimes they make the biggest difference. And by speaking up, you’re not just helping yourself, you’re helping others too.
