Summer is here and for most of us summer means vacation and taking a break from our normal routines. In the Nordics this week marks the celebration of midsummer – which is one of our biggest holidays.
Summer is marketed as our prime time.
Everywhere you look it seems like people have sexy and exciting plans.
Everyone’s tanned, everyone’s surrounded by friends, family, a good looking man and happy kids, everyone has flowers in their hair, cute summer dresses and it seems as if the sun is always shining.
One moment on social media and you feel lonely, anxious and unhappy with your life.
You consume a 10 second reel from someone else’s life, and conclude that they are doing much better at life, while you are failing and living a boring life.
You feel sad and disappointed that you haven’t been invited to the summer party everyone else is going to.
You feel stressed that you haven’t made big enough summer plans.
Maybe your friend has holiday plans she happily shares with you, but at the back of your mind you’re thinking:
“Why am I not invited? “Why am I always the one who has to invite myself to events?”
In this week’s episode, I also talk about how unstructured time — like summer holidays — can be especially triggering for high-achievers.
When the work calendar disappears, all of a sudden you’re left with this blank space. And if you’re used to defining your worth by doing, that space can feel unbearable.
The Real Reason You Feel Left Out During Summer Holidays
This feeling can be especially potent if you don’t have kids, and people around you do. On top of this, if you’re single the feeling might be extra tough.
It’s easy to draw the conclusion that you are not wanted, not welcome and that having you there would be a burden.
Is it your age? Is it that you don’t fit in? Are you not interesting enough
I coached a woman recently who told me she always feels this way around midsummer.
She has friends — and she’s grateful for them — but when holidays come around, all the feelings of loneliness she usually keeps at bay come creeping in.
She said she always feels like she’s the one who has to reach out.
Like her friends are doing her a favor by including her. And that made her feel unwanted and unwelcome.
She shared that she feels the same around New Year’s and birthdays, too.
My Own Story of Chronic Loneliness
First of all, I want to say:
I hear you. I see you.
For most of my life, I felt lonely.
Looking back, I think I suffered from chronic loneliness.
I didn’t enjoy my own company — it felt like my abandonment wound was repeating itself.
But when I was with other people, I usually felt unsafe and longed to go home.
It was a lose-lose kind of feeling.
During my student years, I didn’t look forward to weekends.
Two whole days of empty space meant I had to find something to do — and that filled me with dread.
And partying? It felt like something I had to do, because everyone else did.
But it was impossible for me to enjoy it — my nervous system was too dysregulated to feel safe enough to enjoy something like dancing.
My clearest memory from those years is walking into a party and immediately thinking:
“I’m the most uninteresting person here.”
And by the end of the night, going home feeling even lonelier than before. Like I had gotten proof that I didn’t belong.
That feeling followed me into adulthood, too.
In group settings like retreats or when meeting new friends, I’d assume everyone else knew each other and had chosen each other — while I was somehow the outsider. The leftover.
What Loneliness Really Means (And Doesn’t Mean)
But here’s the thing:
Loneliness isn’t always about whether you’re alone or not.
It’s an internal feeling.
And no, that doesn’t mean we should all be self-sufficient and never need anyone.
We do need people. Humans thrive in community.
But when you feel disconnected from yourself, it becomes hard to connect authentically with others.
When you carry a belief that says:
I’m not good enough. Not smart enough. Not interesting enough — that belief will be reflected back to you.
Not because it’s true — but because you start acting from that belief.
You might hold back in conversations, overthink your every move, or try to be who you think others want you to be.
And then when people don’t respond with warmth or closeness, you take it as proof that something’s wrong with you — when in reality, you never gave them a chance to see the real you.
For example, let’s say you go to a gathering but feel like you don’t belong. So you stay quiet, laugh politely, and try not to take up space.
You leave feeling ignored and invisible — and your mind says “See? I am boring.”
But really, what happened was that your protective self stepped in and made connection impossible.
How Subconscious Beliefs Shape Your Reality
When you believe there’s something wrong with you, you try to make yourself right.
You become agreeable at all costs.
You hide your needs.
You try not to be too much.
You abandon yourself to avoid being abandoned by others.
But when you do that, you don’t let people see the real you. And if they can’t see the real you, you’ll keep feeling unseen.
So what do you do instead?
This isn’t a “just be yourself” kind of pep talk. That’s not helpful advice.
Because if you’ve spent most of your life adapting to be safe and accepted — you can’t “just be yourself” like taking out the trash.
Authenticity, for many of us, was a threat growing up. So we adapted. Because attachment was more important than authenticity.
Your personality? It’s partly an adaptation. It helped you survive.
From Self-Abandonment to Authenticity
That didn’t shift overnight for me.
But something started to change when I began noticing who I felt safe with — and who I didn’t.
I started paying attention to what happened inside me in situations that didn’t feel right.
And I noticed how I was different around people I could be my full self with.
I also began practicing enjoying my own company — not as a punishment, but as something sacred.
I made conscious time for solitude.
The work wasn’t about liking myself every single day. It was about accepting that I’m here. I’m alive. I belong.
And from that place, I started saying no to things that didn’t align with me.
At first, it felt empty.
But slowly, people and opportunities that matched the real me began to appear.
So What Can You Do This Midsummer (or Any Holiday)?
If you feel lonely, anxious, or sad that you haven’t been invited somewhere — or that your plans aren’t “good enough” — here’s what I invite you to do:
1. Notice the story you’re telling.
Do you believe you’re someone who never gets picked?
That you’re a burden? That you’re not wanted?
That’s not the truth.
You are lovable. You are worthy. Your presence adds value — even when you’re alone.
2. Ask for what you need.
Do you want to join a party or gathering?
If you can, share your truth:
“I don’t have any plans for midsummer. I’m feeling a bit lonely. Would love to join if there’s space.”
That’s not intruding — that’s being brave and authentic.
You’re giving others the opportunity to say yes.
And if they say no, remind yourself:
It’s because of their circumstances — it doesn’t mean that you are boring or wrong in any way.
3. Reframe the pressure to perform.
If you think you should be social just because it’s midsummer — question that.
Ask yourself:
What do I make it mean if I’m not out with friends on a holiday?
Write it down. Burn it. Rip it. Let it go. Maybe make a little ceremony out of it
It’s better to be alone than to be with the wrong people.
When you stop filling space with noise, the right people finally have space to enter.
Instead of Performing Summer, Try This:
- Go on a solo hike or forest walk
- Bring a book and picnic to the park
- Visit a new town for the day
- Hit the gym while it’s empty
- Light a candle, eat takeout, and watch your favorite film
- Make your own traditions
- Practice gratitude for what is here
And finally, If you’re feeling hurt by someone not Including you:
Imagine them in front of you. What’s their facial expression? What might be going on in their life?
Can you access compassion — without self-blame?
They may be overwhelmed. Or not used to thinking outside their usual group. Or they just simply forgot.
You don’t know — so don’t let your mind make up a painful story to validate an old belief.
If you’re wondering — my midsummer plans are very simple.
Summer, for me, is a time of being, not performing.
A time to feel into what I want — instead of cramming my calendar.
So this summer, whether you’re surrounded by people or sitting with yourself…
Know this:
You’re not behind.
You’re not broken.
And you’re not alone.
You’re exactly where you need to be — to return to yourself.
Because your relationship with yourself is the greatest love story you’ll ever experience.