Several months (years?) ago, I read in a newsletter that the older we get, the more time we spend alone with ourselves. That idea first made me smile, then left me wondering: am I really ready to spend that much time alone with myself? Where will my friends go? My family? My partner? Will I be able to face this solitude?

Solitude and Isolation: Don’t Mix Them Up

“We live in a society that many describe as hyper-connected, and yet we’ve never seemed to suffer so much from isolation and loneliness.”

Sound familiar? Maybe you even nodded while reading that sentence.

I spent a lot of time reading about this topic, which is why it took me so long to publish this article. I hesitated about throwing dozens of studies and statistics your way. But the most interesting conclusion came from several researchers I looked into: it’s incredibly hard to draw any clear link between loneliness and the increase in online interactions.

The problem is the lack of common definitions and hypotheses among researchers. Without a shared definition of “solitude” or “isolation,” it’s nearly impossible to compare results on a large scale. So, it’s not actually obvious that social media use makes us lonelier. In fact, some studies show that certain users feel less lonely, even when their in-person interactions haven’t increased.

I immediately think of my Instagram friends — those I’ve never hugged in real life but who are among my closest, and those I’ve crossed France (or the Atlantic) to finally meet.

When researchers talk about isolation, loneliness, and online life, COVID-19 always comes up as a turning point. That’s when most research on this topic really took off. After hours of reading, my conclusion is this: it’s still hard to say that our increasingly digital lives automatically make us lonelier.

Because here’s the thing: it’s not solitude that hurts — it’s isolation.

That distinction matters. During the lockdowns, many people were alone. But for the “loners” (like me), who love spending time with themselves without answering to anyone, it was their moment of revenge. For introverts, it was finally time to say: this is great, we don’t have to force ourselves or justify ourselves anymore.

I loved the mental space that solitude created in my life. I loved seeing my routines flow without disruption. My days weren’t eaten alive by outside demands. I was so productive, I truly got my life back together. Even now, when I get scattered, my partner sometimes says: you need a lockdown, and honestly, he’s right. (Here’s more on why isolation can sometimes be beneficial.)

But in 2020, I was quickly reminded of what solitude — the one I adored — could do to others.

My grandmother lost her spark without ever saying a word. She used to be surrounded by friends every day, went to the hairdresser weekly, to the market, to the movies, to dinner parties… Then one day, I heard her voice over the phone, empty. She didn’t want anything anymore. Seeing her white hair in the mirror — standing in for the friends who once filled her days — drained the energy I thought she had without limit.

It only took two months of lockdown for my grandmother to let herself fade away. Not from solitude, but from isolation.

She and my grandfather were fiercely independent, so we had no reason (and no legal right) to visit them. If I had known, I would’ve broken every rule.

I bought a train ticket after that phone call. But it was already too late.

I tried to book the hair appointment she desperately wanted. We called her friends. I picked up her favorite lipstick. Too late.

Isolation had done its work. I know she wasn’t the only one who let go during that time. Because what’s the point of continuing, if it means being cut off from others?

That’s the essence of isolation: when your bond to others breaks, when your sense of belonging disappears. We are social beings, and being cut off is — in my humble opinion — one of life’s harshest punishments.

The Entrepreneur’s “Loneliness”

We isolate so many people in our society, intentionally or not. Isolation can be systemic, social, economic… The problem is vast, and the forms of isolation are unfortunately countless.

And yes, entrepreneurs and freelancers are isolated too. Many talk about the “loneliness of entrepreneurship,” but I think what we’re really describing is isolation:

• Physical isolation. Renting offices or coworking space regularly is expensive, and most can’t afford it.
• Social isolation. Few people truly understand freelance life, and stereotypes abound. They often minimize the difficulty of relying solely on yourself while painting an idealized picture of a free, constraint-free lifestyle. But my “office” is literally a desk wedged into the corner of my bedroom.
• Economic isolation. Labor laws and social protections for freelancers are outdated. Many of us rely on precarious health coverage, don’t prepare for retirement, have no safety net, and pay ourselves the bare minimum. Don’t even get me started on maternity leave coverage.

For me, solitude isn’t suffering anymore. I’ve learned to tame it — to make it mine. It’s now an asset in my creative process.

But isolation? That still stings sometimes. It comes with the territory of being independent.

Alone to Succeed… or Because You’ve Succeeded?

Since starting my business, I’ve made countless decisions that seemed unrelated to business but ultimately fueled my projects’ growth.

I stopped going out.
I started meditating.
I learned to breathe through pranayama.
I integrated yoga into my daily life (not just the poses).
I cut down social media use.
I prioritized sleep.
I hydrated properly.
I quit alcohol.
I spent hours in therapy — of all kinds.

Every single choice was judged, criticized, laughed at, sighed at. I heard it all. And little by little, I watched people disappear as I set my boundaries. (Yes, it sounds cliché, but it’s true.)

When I first announced I was quitting corporate life, one of my best friends at the time told me I was reckless — that it made no sense to leave a job where I could earn €80k a year at a consulting firm. Today, that memory makes me smile. Back then, it was like a punch to the gut.

And it was just the beginning. Many doubted me, projecting all their fears onto me.

But then there were the few who cheered me on. The ones who hit “publish” on my first Instagram post, who followed me from day one.

The more I moved forward, the more my circle refined — not necessarily in size, but in relevance. I’ve always had amazing friends for who I was at each stage. But when you’re facing the loss of a big freelance client, a failed collaboration, unpaid invoices, unexpected setbacks — you’re alone.

No matter how strong your support system is, you’re the one who has to swallow your pride, own your choices, and keep moving.

Don’t get me wrong: there will always be people telling you you’re going to fail. The latest for me? “You’ll never keep running in the morning.” “You’ll never really quit drinking.”

To them, I say the same thing I said to the teachers who told me I’d never make it in life: Watch me prove you wrong.

So is loneliness inherent to success? Do leaders, visionaries, entrepreneurs have to face solitude and isolation as the price of making it? Or is it because they can handle being “just alone enough” that they succeed?

That’s what keeps me wondering.

The Balance of Solitude and Support

I’ve found that a certain degree of solitude and isolation is necessary to stay focused. But without a rock-solid support system, I doubt sustainable success is possible.

Look at Warren Buffett, Oprah Winfrey, or closer to us, Mathilde Lacombe. They all talk about the strength of their inner circle. You don’t see dozens of people orbiting them. But Warren has Charlie. Mathilde has her co-founder and her husband.

There’s a fragile balance between the solitude you choose — the one that helps you focus — and the isolation that comes with leadership.

Because when you innovate, when you think and act differently, you stand apart by default. If you haven’t proven yourself yet (and sometimes even if you have), you’ll face misunderstanding, critics, and solitude all over again.

That’s why entrepreneurs need the ability to look foolish.

When everyone believes they’re doing things “the right way,” and you swim against the current because you’ve spotted a long-term mistake, you’re going to feel alone.

For example: in business school, I was mocked for skipping open-bar parties and barely going out my first year. But those grades got me one of only two spots for the exchange program in Copenhagen, the one I really wanted.

I looked foolish — until my classmates ended up in destinations they hadn’t chosen.

It always comes down to resisting the gaze of others, resisting the pull of instant gratification. It’s hard, especially in a world where social media makes us believe our business success equals our engagement metrics.

But there are thriving companies that have zero Instagram, TikTok, or Facebook. Let’s not forget that.

A leader must hold the line even when everything points against them.

If the facts prove you should go right, don’t go left just because the crowd does. They’ll turn back eventually.

Be patient. Be determined. Accept your solitude. And stay the course.

Learning to Befriend Solitude

I’m convinced that learning to embrace solitude helps you choose your circle more intentionally — and detach from outside validation. That’s where true independence begins.

I’ve seen it in my own family. My brother never cared what anyone thought. Messy room, bad grades, parents’ opinions — he’s always been a “free spirit.” Other people’s judgment rolls off him like water off a duck’s back. I envied him for that, me who once lived for approval.

Years later, my partner is the same: he can tune out the noise, except for the voices that really matter. He’s also the king of delayed gratification. I’ve learned so much from them both.

And my closest friends share these traits too. They remind me constantly: only certain opinions matter.

Your circle should be your guardrail, keeping you from drifting away. That safety makes room for your next ally: solitude.

So how do you actually learn to be alone? Like with anything you’re bad at first:

• Accept being bad.
• Practice until you get better.

There’s no miracle solution here. Just spend time with yourself. Take a walk. Watch a movie. Sit down for coffee.

When I started out in 2019, I used to go to BGE (an organization helping entrepreneurs) at the other end of Paris. I’d eat lunch alone before my appointment so I wouldn’t be late. It was torture. I was convinced everyone was staring at me, pitying me for being alone.

It took years of solitude for me to finally enjoy a coffee, a meal, a day, even a trip alone.

Now? I actually turn down plans because I prefer being by myself. (Yes, I had support to get here. But mostly, I practiced — like with running, creativity, everything.)

Don’t worry — I adore my people. I’m deeply grateful for the incredible circle I have. But that’s another article for another time.