If you’ve felt a bit disconnected lately, you’re not imagining things. The latest data from Ending Loneliness Together shows that one in three Australians experience problematic loneliness — and the numbers have been climbing steadily since the pandemic years.

It’s a stat that hits differently when you sit with it. One in three. That’s your colleague who always eats lunch at her desk. Your neighbour who you wave at but have never spoken to. Maybe it’s you.

Why this matters for your health

Loneliness isn’t just an emotional inconvenience. Research from the Australian Institute of Health and Welfare has linked chronic loneliness to increased risk of heart disease, depression, cognitive decline, and a weakened immune system. Some studies put the health impact of sustained loneliness on par with smoking 15 cigarettes a day.

As someone who teaches yoga classes and sees people walk through the door carrying the weight of isolation on their shoulders, I can tell you the body keeps the score on this one. Loneliness shows up as tight jaws, shallow breathing, and that low-grade anxiety that never quite goes away.

What’s driving the disconnection

There’s no single villain here, but a few things stand out in the Australian context.

The suburb sprawl problem. Our cities keep growing outward, meaning longer commutes and less time in the neighbourhoods where we actually live. When you leave home at 6:30am and get back at 6:30pm, there’s not much energy left for community.

The work-from-home paradox. Remote work gave us flexibility, which is genuinely great. But for many people, it also removed the casual social interactions — the kitchen chat, the after-work drink — that we didn’t realise we relied on. A 2025 survey from the University of Sydney found that fully remote workers were 40% more likely to report feeling socially isolated than hybrid workers.

Digital substitution. We’ve replaced a lot of in-person connection with scrolling. And while social media can maintain existing relationships, it’s pretty terrible at building new ones. You can’t develop trust through a feed.

The cost of living squeeze. When rent takes up half your income, socialising becomes a luxury. Dinner out, a gym membership, even a coffee catch-up — it all adds up. People are withdrawing not because they want to, but because they feel they can’t afford to show up.

What actually helps

Here’s the thing I keep coming back to in my own life and in conversations with people in my classes: connection doesn’t require grand gestures. It requires consistency and a bit of vulnerability.

Start with micro-connections. Chat to the barista. Say good morning to the person walking their dog. These tiny interactions might seem insignificant, but research from the University of British Columbia shows that even brief social exchanges with acquaintances and strangers boost mood and sense of belonging.

Join something with a regular schedule. A weekly park run. A community choir. A book club at the local library. The magic isn’t in the activity — it’s in seeing the same faces repeatedly. Psychologists call this the “mere exposure effect,” and it’s how acquaintances become friends.

Be the inviter. Most people are waiting for someone else to make the first move. Be the person who says, “Want to grab a coffee after this?” It feels awkward. Do it anyway.

Rethink your relationship with your phone. I’m not going to tell you to do a digital detox — that advice is tired and usually impractical. But try this: when you’re in a social situation, keep your phone in your bag. Just that. Give the people in front of you your full attention.

Check in on your people. A text that says “Hey, been thinking of you, how are you going?” takes ten seconds to send and can mean the world to someone who’s struggling in silence.

The bigger picture

Individual action matters, but we also need systemic change. Better urban planning that prioritises walkable communities. Workplaces that build genuine connection into hybrid models rather than just mandating return-to-office days. Funding for community spaces — libraries, community centres, public pools — that give people somewhere to be together without spending money.

Loneliness isn’t a personal failure. It’s a design problem. And the good news about design problems is that they can be redesigned.

But while we wait for the big stuff to shift, the small stuff still counts. Say hello. Show up. Keep showing up.

It’s not complicated. It’s just not easy.