Our Addiction to Convenience is Feeding Our Loneliness

Here’s what a lot of people are actually lacking right now:

Not the perfect partner.
Not the perfect career.

It’s loneliness.

And I see it every day.

People assume that when someone sits down for tarot, they’re asking about love or career. And yes—they are. But underneath those questions, threading through almost every reading, is this: People are fucking lonely.

The majority of my clients are smart, educated, career-driven women between the ages of 28 and 48. Also gorgeous. I don’t know if it is the lighting in my trailer or the vibe, but everyone who comes in looks stunning. 

And the massive layoffs happening around the country, especially in Austin, are feeding our collective anxiety.

I may not be able to help you with your resume, but I do have some suggestions for beating loneliness.

The Generational Distraction

For one thing, we need to stop blaming the younger generations for being so socially awkward. 

I’m Gen X. We didn’t have social media, we connected with strangers by bumming cigarettes, teenage dirtbags trying to figure things out, but our mistakes were not recorded in real time. 

We love to talk about the differences between generations—like it’s some kind of personality quiz, but we’re all using technology in the same way regardless of our age.

We are all using technology to avoid each other, not connect.

Technology has made everything easy.

Too easy.

And sure, you may have used technology to connect. You went to a MeetUp. You did some community thingy. 

And you actually made a friend. You even made plans with said new friend.

Good for you. 

The day comes. You’re tired. Your energy is low. You need me-time. You’re broke. And the list goes on.

Connection feels like work.

So instead, you cancel. You say next time, but next time doesn’t really come because neither one of you feels any real urgency to connect. 

Because when you are bored, you binge-watch Netflix. 

Hungry? Binge-eat with DoorDash.

Lonely? Binge TikTok and Insta until your eyes bleed.

And instead of going hiking, or meeting that new friend, or trying something real, we choose convenience.

Look, I’m not here to shame you. I used to do the same thing.

My husband says drunk plans (plans made while we’ve been drinking) don’t count as plans.

Nay, I say.

My rule for myself is that if I make plans, I keep them because my words have integrity. 

Unless I am dying, if I promised to go hiking with you on a Sunday and I am hungover, I am going on that damn hike. Because I said I would.

And here’s the thing. You’re not going to remember another night in, but you may remember the hike. Ah, a wonderful memory.

We’ve built a world where escape is always available.

Instant. Endless. Effortless.

The machine doesn’t force you to disconnect.

It just makes disconnection more convenient than connection.

And slowly—without noticing—you stop choosing the real thing, community.

Let’s Be Clear

Routine is not the problem. Routine can be grounding. Safe. Supportive.

But routine and convenience are not the same thing.

A meaningful routine—exercise, cooking, cleaning, sleeping is important because it is done with intention. 

But convenience asks nothing, and yet it takes so much.

Every time you choose convenience over connection, the gap widens. That’s loneliness.

And it’s not because people aren’t available. It’s because connecting involves effort. And Time. It involves you (us) showing up.

A Reframe

Here’s something simple.

Every time you feel inconvenienced—pause.

Instead of getting irritated, treat it like a signal.

A small invitation to do something different.

Something less automatic.
More intentional.

Because the life you want involves people.

Final Thought

Loneliness isn’t just about who isn’t in your life.

It’s about what you’re no longer choosing.

So choose differently.

Even in small ways.

Especially in small ways.

Because connection doesn’t disappear all at once.

It fades—one convenient decision at a time.