They’ve been called “too online,” “overly sensitive,” and “emotionally fragile” in the media – but the truth is simpler and more urgent: Gen Z is lonely. Not just in the casual, everyone-feels-it-sometimes way, but in a deep, existential, and often debilitating sense. According to the 2025 Cigna “Loneliness in America” report, 67% of Gen Z adults (ages 18–26) say they feel lonely. That’s not a character flaw. That’s a crisis.

For clinicians, this isn’t just another generational quirk to work around. It’s a clinical and cultural reality that demands a thoughtful, well-informed response. Because this generation – raised amid the collapse of traditional social structures and the flood of digital life – has been left both over-connected and under-held.

Therapists are increasingly seeing Gen Z clients present with themes of disconnection, social anxiety, chronic internet use, and what often looks like detachment – but is more accurately described as a profound lack of relational safety. The clinical question, then, isn’t “How do I get this client to log off?” but rather “How can I help them feel truly connected?”

Why Gen Z Is So Lonely

It’s easy to default to blaming technology, but the problem goes deeper. Gen Z came of age during a time of accelerated cultural unraveling. Many lost key developmental years to the COVID-19 pandemic, missed rites of passage, and saw their social worlds shrink to screens. They live in an era where in-person third spaces like schools, churches, clubs, and libraries are underfunded or inaccessible. Economic precarity delays traditional adulthood milestones. Community is harder to come by.

In fact, a 2021 study from Harvard’s Making Caring Common Project found that 61% of young adults aged 18–25 report experiencing “serious loneliness.” That number was the highest of any age group surveyed. Compounding that, a 2021 CDC Youth Risk Behavior Survey found that 42% of high school students reported persistent feelings of sadness or hopelessness, another indirect indicator of emotional disconnection and relational distress.

They’re not just feeling disconnected—they’re starting to believe connection itself is unsafe, fleeting, or inaccessible. And for many, that belief is shaped not just by circumstance, but by repeated relational rupture, digital overload, and cultural detachment.

When the Phone Is Both Lifeline and Wall

Society may be quick to pathologize internet use in Gen Z clients. But for many, online spaces are not just entertainment, they’re a substitute for community. Platforms like TikTok, Reddit, Instagram, Discord provide spaces where young people feel witnessed, validated, and emotionally stimulated. According to a 2022 Pew Research Center report, 95% of teens report using YouTube daily, 67% of teens use TikTok daily, and 62% use Instagram daily.

But there’s a paradox: the same platforms that soothe can also deepen disconnection. Constant exposure to curated lives fuels self-doubt. Algorithms encourage shallow repetition over real risk. And parasocial relationships (deep one-sided emotional investment in influencers) can feel more reliable than real-life ones, while never truly feeding the need to be known. In therapy, this often manifests as:

• Difficulty sustaining eye contact or tolerating silence
• Language shaped by memes and irony (e.g., “I’m not anxious, I’m just main charactering wrong”)
• Shame or confusion about social norms
• Hesitation around vulnerability—even when craving connection

They may describe themselves as “awkward,” “socially anxious,” or “not built for people.” But often, the underlying issue isn’t fear. It’s relational undernourishment.

What Gen Z Actually Needs from Therapy

Let’s be clear: Gen Z doesn’t need lectures about screen time. They need therapists who understand the relational economy they’re trying to survive in, and help them build new maps to navigate it. Here are some strategies that might resonate:

1. Validate the Ecosystem

Start with context. Normalize their experience. This generation was raised during the erosion of stable community infrastructure. Therapy isn’t about correcting their habits, but naming the environment that shaped them.

2. Teach Relational Literacy

Many clients need support with skills we assume they’ve learned: how to make small talk, how to initiate plans, how to repair conflict. Therapy can model rupture and repair in real time, which can be one of the most valuable things we can offer.

3. Model Consistency and Trust

For clients whose social worlds have been unreliable or transactional, the therapeutic relationship may be their first experience of sustained emotional presence. Don’t underestimate how healing that can be.

4. Stay Curious About Their World

Ask about the creators they follow, the communities they’re in online, the language they use to describe themselves. Avoid performative coolness—but show real curiosity. Engaging with your younger clients' digital culture may strengthen the therapeutic alliance.

5. Support Micro-Connection Goals

Frame social exposure not as performance, but as data-gathering. It may be helpful to try interventions like:

• Sending a voice memo to a friend instead of a text
• Reaching out to one person from class or work
• Visiting an in-person event for a fandom they’re part of online

Even small interactions, sustained over time, can help rewire the expectation that people are unavailable or unsafe.

Helping Gen Z Rebuild Belonging

The goal isn’t to turn every Gen Z client into a social butterfly. It’s to rebuild their capacity for relational risk—to remind them that real people, in real time, can offer real warmth. 

Some helpful clinical entry points:

• Identify one or two “anchor people”—not perfect, but safe-ish
• Encourage participation in low-pressure IRL environments (board game nights, crafting groups, queer hiking clubs)
• Work on tolerating emotional “discomfort” in social settings without self-blame, reminding them that being uncomfortable does not equate to being unsafe.
• Explore how hyper-independence may mask a deep longing for closeness

And for clients willing to take the leap, group therapy can be transformative. It creates an environment for mutual witnessing, shared repair, and low-stakes vulnerability, and provides an example of what a supportive ‘third space’ can feel like.

Seeing the Loneliness Beyond the Screen

Others may often mistake digital immersion for apathy, laziness, or immaturity. But for Gen Z, it’s often the most immediate tool they have for seeking belonging in a fractured world.

As therapists, we have a powerful opportunity: not to convince them to “go outside more,” but to build bridges back to the parts of themselves – and others – they’ve been taught to doubt or avoid.

They’re not too online. They’re chronically under-held and disconnected. And they’re asking, in their own language, who might stay long enough to truly hold and connect with them.