Participant ID: P01 Pseudonym: Maya Age: 22 Gender: Woman Occupation: Undergraduate student (3rd year, biology) Living situation: Lives alone in a basement suite in East Vancouver Relevant context: Moved to Vancouver from a small town in northern BC eight months ago to transfer into SFU Interview date: 2025-10-14 Interview length: 47 minutes Interviewer: R1 Location: SFU library group study room, Burnaby campus --- I: Thanks for coming in, Maya. So as we discussed, this is a study about how people experience loneliness. Can you start by telling me a bit about yourself, whatever you'd like me to know? P: Um, yeah, sure. Like I said in the email, I'm in my third year, I'm doing biology, I transferred here from UNBC in September. So I'm — I've been in Vancouver for, like, eight months I guess? And before that I lived in the same town my whole life, basically. Population like 3,400. So this is — yeah. It's been a transition. I: When I say the word loneliness, what comes to mind for you? P: [pause] Honestly? Like, the SkyTrain at 9 p.m. on a Sunday. That's what comes to mind first. Which is weird because there's people on it. There's tons of people on it. But everyone's just on their phones, and nobody — nobody acknowledges that anybody else exists, and I just sit there and I feel like I could disappear and nobody would, like, notice. So that's loneliness for me, I think. It's being around people who don't see you. I: How do you know when you're lonely? Like what does it feel like? P: It's — okay, this is going to sound dramatic, but it feels like being hungry. Like, in my chest. It's a physical thing. I get this feeling, especially at night, where my chest just feels — hollow isn't the right word, it's like an ache. Um. And I'll catch myself just scrolling, like for hours, just scrolling Instagram and watching people back home do things together, and I know it's making it worse but I can't stop. So I guess that's how I know. When I'm doing that. I: Is loneliness the same as being alone for you, or different? P: Different. Definitely different. Like, I went hiking by myself a few weeks ago, up to Quarry Rock, and I was alone for like four hours and it was great. I felt fine. I felt better than fine, actually. But then I came back to my apartment and I was lonely within ten minutes. So it's not — it's not about being by yourself. It's about, I don't know, it's about not having anyone to come back to, maybe? Like nobody to text and say, hey I'm back. So. I: Can you walk me through a recent time you felt lonely? P: [pause] Yeah. So, okay. Last Saturday. There was — my roommate, my old roommate from UNBC, she got engaged. And she posted this whole thing, and like all of our friends were in the photos at this party, and I — I obviously wasn't there, because I live here now. And I just — I sat on my bed and I cried for like an hour. Which is embarrassing to say out loud. But I'm happy for her, I really am, I just — I felt like everyone's life is still happening and I'm just here. Like I left and life closed up where I used to be. Does that make sense? I: It does. What did you do? P: I texted my mom. She didn't answer for a while because of the time difference — no wait, there's no time difference, we're in the same province, but she works nights so. Um. And then I ordered Thai food and watched The Office for the like fifteenth time. Which is what I always do. The Office is, like, my comfort show. So. I: When loneliness shows up, what do you usually do? P: That. What I just said. Phone, food, TV. Sometimes I — sometimes I'll force myself to go to a coffee shop just to be around people, even if I'm not talking to anyone. Like just to remind myself that the world exists. I joined a climbing gym and that's been — that helps, actually, because you kind of have to talk to people. But I don't go as often as I should. I: Have you tried anything that didn't work? P: Oh god, lots of things. I went to one of the SFU mixers in first week, like the events for transfer students, and it was — it was awful. It was so awful. Everyone was already in groups, and I stood at the edge of this circle of people for like twenty minutes and nobody made room for me, and I just left. So that made it worse. Tinder made it worse. Going to parties where I don't know anyone makes it worse. Um. Calling my dad makes it worse sometimes because he's not — he's not a feelings person, so I'll get off the phone feeling more alone than before. I: What do you think your loneliness is telling you, if anything? P: [long pause] I think it's telling me I'm not — I haven't built my life here yet. Like, I have classes and I have an apartment and I have, you know, a routine. But I don't have a life. Not yet. And I think the loneliness is just my brain telling me that. Like, hey, you don't have people, you should work on that. Which is fair, you know? It's not lying. I: Is there anything that's helped that surprised you? P: [laughs] My neighbour's cat. So my neighbour, she's like 70, and she has this orange cat, and the cat just shows up at my window sometimes. And I started leaving treats. And now she — the neighbour, not the cat — she knocks on my door sometimes to ask if I've seen the cat, and we'll talk for like ten minutes. About nothing. About the weather. And I always feel — really good, after. So. A cat. A cat helped. That's my answer. I: If you could change one thing about the way society handles loneliness, what would it be? P: I mean — okay, this is going to sound naive, but I just wish it was easier to just talk to people. Like at the grocery store. Or on the bus. I feel like in my hometown people would just talk to you, and here it's like there's this rule that you don't. And I know it's because everyone's exhausted and Vancouver's expensive and people are protecting their bandwidth, I get all that. But I just — I wish we could opt back in. Like a button you could wear that says I'm okay to talk. [pause] Sorry, that's a weird answer. I: It's not a weird answer at all. Anything important about your experience I haven't asked about? P: Um. I guess just — I think loneliness is, like, embarrassing? Like even sitting here saying I'm lonely feels embarrassing. Even though I know rationally that everybody feels this way sometimes. I'm 22, I'm in university, I'm supposed to be having the best years of my life. So admitting I'm lonely feels like admitting I'm failing at being 22. Which I know is stupid but. Yeah. So that's the thing I'd add. The shame part. I: Thank you, Maya. Really. P: Yeah. Thanks. This was — actually this was nice. I haven't talked about this with anyone.