By Mikki Hernandez, Outreach Coordinator for Aspire Therapy Center
For the past month, we've watched the world come together for the Fifa World Cup. And while the tournament happens every four years, there's something about this one that feels different. The energy is light. Celebratory. Universal. United.
What is it about this moment that feels so different? In a society riddled with divisiveness, where algorithms are designed to keep us siloed in our own bubbles, the World Cup is proving the power of humanity; how fundamentally the same we all are, and how much greater life feels when celebrated with the people around us.
This sense of togetherness stands in sharp contrast to something many of us feel yet rarely admit: loneliness. The American Psychological Association's 2025 Stress in America report, subtitled "A Crisis of Connection," found that about half of us regularly feel isolated, left out, or short on companionship. And this can take on a physical toll. High levels of loneliness were linked to more chronic health issues, including anxiety and depression.
The effect of loneliness isn't something we can afford to ignore. We've gotten more open about mental health in recent years, with self-care at the center of the conversation. To be clear, self-care is good – rest, boundaries, moments of quiet solitude. But somewhere along the way, it became the whole conversation. Taking care of yourself was never meant to be a solo endeavor. The best form of self-care often comes from our community, the friends, family, and neighbors we do life with.
And the science backs that up. Tech journalist Kara Swisher investigated this for her new CNN series, Kara Swisher Wants to Live Forever, testing the trendiest treatments on herself to separate real science from expensive snake oil. Her takeaway boiled down to four unglamorous pillars: nutrition, exercise, sleep, and socialization. The red light therapy and hyperbaric chambers? Nice to try if your budget allows, but they're not what moves the needle. Quality time with the people you love is.
Her findings echo the Blue Zones research into the places where people routinely live past 100. When Dan Buettner and his team studied these communities, a few habits kept surfacing: natural movement, a mostly plant-based diet, a clear sense of purpose. But the biggest predictor of all was deep, lifelong social connection. Those close relationships didn't just help people live longer; they made those long lives happy. Because happiness is contagious, and the people around us shape the lives we end up living. More than any diet or routine, our connection with others is what makes life meaningful.
So this brings me to the question: if community is central not just to a longer life but to a happier, less lonely one, how do we actually build it? And what does it give us in return?
Find your third place.
Your first place is home, your second is work, and your third is anywhere you go simply to be around people: the coffee shop, the gym, the school pick-up line, a place of worship, the corner of the park where the dog people gather. These spaces used to be the connective tissue of everyday life, and they've quietly disappeared as more of us work from home, socialize through screens, and stop making time to just be around each other.
So choose a third place and keep showing up. Consistency matters more than effort here. You don't have to arrive hoping to make a best friend; you just have to become a familiar face. Week after week, the barista remembers your order, the regulars nod hello, and you slowly realize you belong there. It's a low-stakes kind of belonging, one that asks little of you but shows up on the days you need it.
Say yes more than feels comfortable.
We've gotten good at protecting our energy. The invite comes in and we run the math: the drive, the small talk, the effort of being "on," and half the time we decline before we've finished reading it. Sometimes that's the right call. But the notion of "protect your peace" has quietly turned into staying home alone, again, and then wondering why we feel so disconnected.
Go in open-minded and say yes to the thing you'd normally skip. Yes to the coworker's invite you assumed wasn't really for you. Yes to the playdate that doubles as coffee with another parent. More often than not, you'll be glad you went. And the perks stack up: you feel less lonely, and you keep your mind sharp in a way that scrolling alone on the couch never will. Not every yes, and not to the point of burnout, but more than feels comfortable. The best experiences are so often the ones you almost didn't show up for.
Bring back the village.
Living in a digital world where it feels like solutions are just a click or tap away, we bought into the idea that needing help is a weakness, that the goal is to handle everything ourselves. Climb the ladder alone. Screen time as a babysitter. Keep up with a standard of living that was never really sustainable. No wonder so many of us are burned out and quietly overwhelmed, each running our own personal operation, doing the work that entire communities used to share.
But it was never meant to be this way. For most of human history, people lived in villages: neighbors who traded favors, family who watched the kids, friends who showed up with a meal when things fell apart. The village didn't make people weak, it made them resilient. Try asking for help before you hit your breaking point. Borrow the tool instead of buying it. Say yes when someone offers, and offer when you can.
The more we lean on each other, the less we're at the mercy of forces we can't control. Community isn't just good for the heart; it's a safety net we build by showing up for each other.
Let yourself be seen.
It's one thing to be liked. It's another to be known, and that's what actually eases the loneliness. You can have a packed calendar and a full group chat and still feel like nobody really gets you, because we’ve learned to lead with the highlight reel and keep the hard stuff to ourselves. We show up polished. We answer "I'm fine."
But shame thrives in isolation and shrinks the moment someone else says "me too." The thing you're quietly carrying almost always loosens its grip the second you say it out loud to someone safe. So let yourself be seen. Tell a friend how you're actually doing. Drop the "I'm fine" performance every once in a while. It can feel terrifying, but being vulnerable, mess and all, is where real belonging lives. There's real relief in not holding it all alone.
The good news is that building community doesn't have to be complicated. Just as the World Cup showed us how much joy comes from a shared experience on a global scale, we can find that same joy in ordinary life, in the small, consistent ways we show up for each other. So reach out first. Let yourself be known. Choose community, again and again. It's the antidote to loneliness, and proof that life is better when we celebrate it together.