My decision to attend Brown ultimately came down to its reputation as “the Happy Ivy.” I was anxiously weighing my options until a viral video of the Main Green popped up on my TikTok feed. The sun was shining down gloriously and groups of students filled the green — it was a picturesque image of a thriving community. I wasn’t naive enough to think that everyday would look like that, but it gave me hope that I would feel an immediate sense of belonging at Brown. Instead, I spent my first semester of college mostly alone, and ashamed because of it. I have come to realize that loneliness is a problem that exists even within the Van Wickle Gates, and the only way to solve it is to talk about it openly.
At my first appointment with Counseling and Psychological Services, my therapist said that many Brown students have come in with the same feelings of isolation. I was surprised to hear that this was a common problem, but I probably shouldn’t have been. People ages 18 to 25 report feelings of serious loneliness more than any other demographic. Brown is no exception. You can sit next to people during lectures and have small talk with familiar faces but still struggle to form the deeper connections necessary to be socially fulfilled. .
Despite the prevalence of loneliness, it’s hard not to internalize it when it feels like society sees it as a moral failing. I was studying in a dormitory lounge when I heard someone ask their friend, “why is she always asking you to go to stuff with her? Does she not have any friends? Because if she doesn’t, then that’s a red flag.” Comments like these contribute to the stigmatization of loneliness, suggesting that something is wrong with a person if they eat alone or don’t have a huge friend group to party with every weekend. These assumptions can harm one’s self esteem and make the process of forming friendships intimidating.
All of these factors are compounded by Brown’s reputation as one of the happiest campuses in the country. I recall thinking: If I can’t find community here, then where can I? Loneliness at a place like Brown feels like an anomalous experience. And admitting that you’re lonely — to yourself, let alone to other people — feels particularly humiliating.
It is easy to assume that someone who makes dozens of friends in the first few weeks of college is naturally gifted with superb social skills, but forming relationships takes effort and intention. Not having boundless social connections doesn’t mean you have personality deficits. Instead, it might mean that you have yet to find an effective way to strengthen your relationships.
I found that opening up about my feelings of loneliness reduced my shame and brought me closer to the people in my life. I was scared that I would be judged; instead, I was validated and reassured that my experience was not singular. Upperclassmen would tell me that they too felt isolated and unsure of their place at Brown during their first year.One senior told me he even considered transferring his first semester because he felt isolated on campus. Acquaintances became close friends as we connected over our feelings of loneliness. We found friendship in not just our desire to be in a community, but our shared music tastes, differing worldviews and the all-too-familiar anxiety of trying to figure out how we were going to navigate our limited time in college. I realized that vulnerability was the key to moving past superficial associations and forming genuine connections that enrich our lives.
If it weren’t for the vulnerability of myself and other people, I wouldn’t have made it through my first year of college. It might seem counterintuitive, but having the courage to talk about being lonely might be the first step towards finding your place at the “Happy Ivy.”
Kendall Ricks ’27 can be reached at kendall_ricks@brown.edu. Please send responses to this column to letters@browndailyherald.com and other opinions to opinions@browndailyherald.com.
