I'm the only single one in my friend group and I feel completely neglected

Irish Times

a day ago

Dear Roe,
Having been largely single has meant a lot of time on my own as friends got married and had families. Over the last decade, it has been a real struggle to have my needs attended to in friendships as I am always trumped by family commitments. Even getting texts back could take days, much less getting to do an activity with them that hasn't involved child minding. Some couples are now beginning to separate and expect me to just be available. In one case, I got a heartfelt message about meeting up more, only for them to reveal months later that they had decided to separate from their partner at that time, which made it feel far less genuine thereafter. Also included in this are difficulties where they have presented a very different public front from what they now say was going on at home – it's not that it's not believable, but it is surprising, as they played the other role well and it's taking me time to adjust to that rather than what was previously presented. They aren't happy that wasn't fully accepted right away
. What is the best way to navigate this?
What you've been going through is common and painful. Being the single, unmarried, and/or childfree person in a friend group where that's unusual can be deeply isolating.
Priorities shift, availability dwindles, and emotional energy becomes scarce. As you've experienced, there's often an unspoken assumption that your time and energy are limitless, that you can be cancelled on or called upon at will. Many people have stood where you are now, feeling sidelined, deprioritised, and taken for granted. That pain and disappointment are entirely valid. When you've shown up consistently for years, only to have messages ignored, to feel reduced to a babysitter, or left out of significant life updates, it hurts. Friendships that once felt balanced and dependable may now feel one-sided and unrewarding. It's no wonder you've felt disoriented.
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However, here's the hard truth: you may be deepening your hurt by clinging to the idea that things should stay the same. Time passes. People grow and change. Relationships evolve. Nothing stays static, and your unwillingness to accept this and adapt is leading to resentment toward people who likely still care for you, just differently. You can either embrace the transformation in your friendships or risk losing them entirely.
Your friends' shifting roles, messy transitions, and new priorities may frustrate or upset you, but the truth is that their lives have undergone large, seismic shifts. You're so invested in how you are being affected by these changes that you're forgetting that your friends, like you, are just people living life for the first time, trying to figure it out, and stumbling along the way. What you're perceiving as neglect is likely just your friends simply being overwhelmed, flawed, or consumed by their own changing needs.
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You express a sense of betrayal that some of your friends kept serious life events from you while presenting a curated version of their lives, but again, here you're overly invested in how this affects you to recognise their humanity.
Maybe their less consistent communication and requests for childcare were the signs they were struggling. Maybe their silence about their relationship issues is the sign that it was too serious and potentially life-upending to speak about casually. Maybe they were just trying to survive and figure it all out in their own way, and don't need judgment about how they went about it.
I want you to think about what you're showing them about the kind of friend you are. They're now offering you honesty, vulnerability, and asking for support – and instead of responding with emotional support and embracing this chance to connect with them authentically, you're offering themjt, anger and resentment that they didn't tell you sooner.
No single relationship will meet all your emotional needs, nor should it. Friendship, especially in adulthood, is often a web, not a lifeline. If you're feeling isolated, the answer is to expand the web, not tear it apart strand by strand
I understand you're catching up emotionally, and that sometimes emotionally adjusting to the big shifts in the lives of those we love takes time. But don't let your discomfort with change become a wall against the humanity of others. Let go of the idea that your friends owe you the people they used to be. They don't. Just as you've changed, so have they. They owe you honesty now, not continuity with the past. Let them be who they are now.
That doesn't mean you have to agree with all their choices, or absorb their emotional upheaval, or be their lifeline through crises they didn't invite you into earlier. You can witness without taking on, and you can care without being consumed. But don't let your unrealistic expectation that old friendships will never change close you off to the friendships being offered to you now. Maybe with less time, with more talk about toddlers' developmental milestones, some without the presence of a now ex-partner, but still friendship.
This is a good time to take stock of what you need in your life and friendships, and start acting in accordance with those needs. You need to take responsibility for tending to your own needs, instead of neglecting yourself and getting angry at others when you start crumbling.
Start by re-centring your energy. If you're giving far more than you receive in a relationship, it's time to take a step back. A connection that no longer nourishes you may not be broken – just different. You can speak your needs, or adjust your expectations, or even let the relationship fade. Sometimes, telling someone you feel a bit neglected and need some quality time with them is all that's needed, and they'll embrace the chance to readjust. Sometimes they won't be able to meet you, and you can let the relationship drift. But ending things entirely is rarely the only – or wisest – option.
Our culture often confuses setting boundaries with cutting people off. But the solution to feeling lonely or under-supported is not to enforce more isolation by cutting people off. It's to accept the reality of what someone can give you now and then, crucially, to make space for more people in your life rather than fewer. No single relationship will meet all your emotional needs, nor should it. Friendship, especially in adulthood, is often a web, not a lifeline. If you're feeling isolated, the answer is to expand the web, not tear it apart strand by strand because each thread isn't strong enough to carry the whole weight of your heart.
Get out there. Build friendships with people whose lives look more like yours – other single or childfree folk who can offer the spontaneity, attention, and shared experience you're missing. That will help ease your longing and make it easier to see your older friends for who they are now, not who they were.
And use this time to build a better relationship with yourself. Accept that people evolve. Speak your needs before they curdle into bitterness. Learn to say no, to guard your peace, and to focus on your own life. Ask what you need now, instead of ruminating on what someone should've given you last year. It's not wrong to want more. But wanting more starts by giving more to yourself, not by waiting for others to finally notice what you've been quietly starving for.
Let this be the beginning of something new. Not just for your friendships, but for yourself.