A new epidemic for college students: Loneliness

By Lydia Chapman

Senior Reporter

At lunch in Apple Dining Hall, Finley Coleman slides her tray onto an empty table. Around her, laughter and conversation fill the room, but for her, the noise only amplifies the silence surrounding her.

“I feel the most connected at worship nights, but most isolated at lunch or at night,” Coleman said.

Coleman, a psychology major and residential student, lives just steps from hundreds of classmates. On paper, her days should be filled with built-in community. Yet she often finds herself eating alone or drifting back to her dorm after class with no one to talk to.

Her experience reflects a larger trend many colleges are confronting: the loneliness epidemic. In 2023, the U.S. surgeon general declared loneliness a public health crisis, linking it to higher risks of depression, anxiety, and even physical illness.

Recent surveys show the problem is especially acute on college campuses. The Healthy Minds Study from the University of Michigan reported that 52% of students felt frequent loneliness in 2025, only a slight drop from 58% in 2022. Another national survey by Active Minds and TimelyCare found that students who report loneliness are four times more likely to experience severe psychological distress.

Annie Weaver, a counselor at Trevecca’s Counseling Center, said loneliness exists on all campuses, including Trevecca, but doesn’t look the same for every student.

“Residential students often feel lost in the crowd, while commuters struggle with FOMO,” she said. “It can spiral into withdrawal, depression, and academic decline.”

For Coleman, the issue isn’t just being physically alone, but feeling disconnected from peers in her academic program. The lack of collaborative opportunities leaves her watching classmates in other fields form tight-knit study groups and friendships she struggles to find.

“Being a psychology major, I notice that we don’t do as much group work, and that makes me feel left out compared to other majors,” she said.

Sometimes the isolation becomes heavy enough that she’s thought about leaving Trevecca altogether.

“I’ve thought about transferring before because I felt so disconnected,” she said.

Weaver has seen how loneliness quietly chips away at students’ well-being. Even for those who don’t name it directly, the signs show up in counseling sessions: declining grades, trouble sleeping, and feelings of apathy.

She believes part of the challenge stems from the COVID-19 pandemic, which disrupted social development during formative years.

“Students aren’t as practiced at making new connections,” she said. “They’re more hesitant to reach out, even though they want to belong.”

The Counseling Center has tried to counteract this with both traditional services and low-pressure gatherings. Free individual sessions are available, along with events like Taco Tuesdays and short workshops designed to get students talking in approachable ways. Collaboration with Trevecca’s peer mentor program helps extend that reach, connecting students to support outside of counseling offices.

For students like Coleman, who sometimes wrestle with the stigma of asking for help, peer support can make the difference between staying isolated and finding connection.

That’s where upperclassmen like Elizabeth “Elisa” Johnson step in. As a junior English major and peer mentor, she leads a group of first-year students and works to make them feel more at home on campus.

“Even the busiest students can feel lonely if their friendships don’t go beyond the surface,” she said.

One of her most successful moments came from something small, a Gilmore Girls watch party.

“It gave everyone common ground,” she said. “It wasn’t a big program, but it broke the ice in a way formal events sometimes don’t.”

Johnson knows the issue firsthand. She’s had her own seasons of feeling isolated, and she said that experience shapes the way she mentors others.

When her students share their struggles, she balances being both a resource and a peer, sometimes offering advice, other times simply sitting with them so they don’t feel invisible.

“I’ve felt lonely too, and that helps me empathize,” she said.

Her advice echoes what Coleman has discovered for herself: connection often starts with small, intentional choices.

“I tell students: put your phone down, step out and be brave,” she said.

For Coleman, the hardest moments still come when she’s reminded that community isn’t automatic, even in a residence hall. Large campus events can feel overwhelming, and while they help some students, they rarely leave her with the deeper connections she longs for.

“I value the small, random hangouts way more than the big events,” she said.

She’s found comfort in faith, leaning on prayer and journaling during the stretches when loneliness feels sharpest. Worship nights offer a sense of belonging she struggles to find elsewhere. At the same time, she continues to push herself toward the small risks Johnson describes, smiling at classmates, speaking up in group settings, and saying yes to impromptu invitations.

Experts say that’s exactly the kind of persistence that can make a difference. While statistics show loneliness remains high among college students, Weaver believes even small steps matter.

“It’s about remembering that everyone wants to belong,” she said. “Taking that first small step to reach out or accept an invitation can change the whole trajectory of a student’s experience.”

Coleman hopes her story reminds others that they aren’t alone in feeling alone. She’s learning that connection doesn’t require a crowd. Sometimes it just takes one person noticing, one genuine conversation, or one shared laugh in a dorm lounge.

“Social media makes you feel like you’re connected, but when you see people in person, it doesn’t always match,” she said.