Single Men, Loneliness, and the Redefinition of Masculinity

A growing sense of loneliness among young, unpartnered men is drawing scholarly attention as researchers link traditional masculinity norms to dissatisfaction with being single. Pew Research Center data show that 63 percent of men under 30 are single, compared with 34 percent of women. While roughly half of single men are seeking a committed relationship or casual dates, metrics for single women in similar positions vary by study. The gap challenges stereotypes that portray male bachelorhood as a stable, effortless state and instead points to a broader social calculus at work as dating markets and gender norms evolve.

In Minneapolis, 31-year-old Shea Mandli describes his current status as a stark contrast to a plan he once carried for his future—a wife, a brood of children, and a shared life that could weather ups and downs. He ended a six-month relationship about three years ago and has since found online dating dispiriting and face-to-face approaches awkward. “No longer the ‘no’ is the worst thing that could happen,” Mandli says of trying to introduce himself. He speaks of a palpable loneliness, a yearning for intimacy that sometimes hardens into a tougher exterior to avoid showing vulnerability. As he sits among friends at a table for a recent Friendsgiving, he wonders what it would feel like to share in those moments with a partner and fears he may never meet someone.

Scholars emphasize that Mandli’s experience is not unique. A growing cohort of young men, including those who identify as straight, report feeling unmoored by singleness even as it remains a valid choice for some. Research has shown that single women, on average, report higher life satisfaction than single men in comparable circumstances, a finding that complicates common assumptions about gender happiness and relationship status. Some studies also show partnered gay men experience better mental health than their unpartnered peers, underscoring how social support and relationship status interact with sexual orientation in complex ways.

Among the psychological explanations offered by researchers and clinicians, masculine socialization plays a central role. Fredric E. Rabinowitz, a psychology professor at the University of Redlands who has spent years working with men navigating emotions, notes that many men “tend to put all their emotional eggs in one basket,” expecting a single relationship to supply the bulk of their emotional life. That stance is rooted in childhood teachings that discussing emotions is weak or unmasculine, Rabinowitz says, which can make intimate friendship feel at odds with the culture’s ideals of strength, independence, and stoicism. As a result, men may reserve vulnerability for a romantic partner, or forego it altogether, with consequences for both dating and broader social bonds.

That pattern has tangible health implications. A lack of social support is linked to higher mortality risk, poorer sleep, weakened immunity, anxiety, and low self-esteem. Conversely, having a reliable network—whether friends, family, or a partner—can bolster coping and overall well-being under stress. Among single gay men, for instance, social support from friends and family has been associated with higher well-being, according to researchers who study LGBTQ communities. Yet for many straight men who remain unpartnered, a single relationship can still appear to be the defining emotional outlet, reinforcing a sense of deficit when that outlet is not available.

Experts say there is more at stake than happiness in romance alone. Traditional heteromasculine norms—where a man should be sexually active, provide for a family, and project core masculinity through a partner—can become a source of pressure and self-critique when those milestones feel out of reach. Elaine Hoan, a University of Toronto researcher whose work focuses on dating and well-being, notes that simply expecting a relationship to bring happiness can be a self-fulfilling prophecy: when singles pair off, they often report increased life satisfaction, but the mechanism may be rooted in hopeful anticipation as much as in the relationship itself. Hoan cautions against assuming that romance will automatically resolve underlying issues, but she does acknowledge that projection can shape men’s behavior and self-perception in dating.

This tension is not limited to straight men. The broader landscape of masculinity includes online spaces that valorize dominance and traditional dominance-oriented traits, sometimes at odds with the expectations of many potential partners. A consumer research firm survey highlighted that Gen Z men are more likely than previous generations to prioritize dominance as a personality trait, which can clash with the values of increasingly socially progressive dating partners. The result is a mixed field of strategy: some men retreat into rigid scripts or the “manosphere”—a collection of online spaces that often promote misogynistic or reductive views of women—while others seek to rewrite the script by embracing vulnerability, curiosity, and shared responsibility.

For some, turning away from rigid scripts means redefining masculinity to include a broader set of strengths. Rabinowitz argues for an approach that does not force a binary choice between toughness and tenderness. He envisions a model in which a man can be open and compassionate yet still principled, persistent, and goal-driven. “It’s not one or the other,” he says, describing a synthesis in which strength and openness coexist and reinforce one another. He encourages men to learn themselves—their values, their communication styles, their triggers—and to bring that self-awareness into dating and friendships. In this framework, loneliness in singleness can become a signal to cultivate a more versatile, resilient form of masculinity rather than a cause for self-blame.

Another narrative in the broader conversation comes from Reuben Woodall, a 29-year-old who lives in Bristol, United Kingdom. For three years, he was single and felt that heterosexual depictions of love set an unrealistic standard for queer relationships as well. He says that for a long time, he viewed romance through a pedestal that made him feel inadequate. “Gay relationships are often seen as short-lived, lustful encounters rather than meaningful endeavors,” he wrote in an email. During that period, he focused on hobbies and personal growth rather than dwelling on singleness. Now in a new relationship, he describes a changed outlook: “My problems feel smaller, knowing I have someone to hold, confide in, and encounter life alongside means a blanket of comfort has fallen over every experience. Romance is inherently exciting.” Woodall’s experience suggests that the emotional terrain shifts once a connection is formed, but the underlying desire for companionship remains a constant across identities.

The push toward a more nuanced masculinity also involves practitioners and researchers encouraging men to seek social connections beyond romantic partnerships. Rabinowitz and colleagues emphasize building a network that includes friends with shared interests, family relations, and engaged communities. They caution that the path to healthier relationships is not simply about finding a partner but about expanding the emotional toolkit men use to connect with others. That work includes practicing curiosity in dating, aligning on shared values, and learning to express vulnerability in ways that feel authentic rather than performative.

The culture at large continues to wrestle with how to reconcile traditional expectations with contemporary realities. The rise of dating apps and the labor market’s pressures have reshaped how people meet and form connections, often amplifying the loneliness felt by some men who feel left behind by changing social norms. Yet there is a sense among researchers and therapists that a shift is possible: by reframing masculinity to include openness, empathy, and collaborative problem-solving, men may not only improve their dating prospects but also strengthen friendships and family relationships. The potential payoff is substantial: higher well-being, more resilient social networks, and a broader sense of belonging in a society where loneliness has become a measurable public health concern.

As the conversation evolves, it remains essential to center verified context and avoid speculation about individual outcomes. The stories of Mandli, Woodall, and others illustrate real experiences that intersect with broader data about dating, mental health, and gender norms. The path forward appears to involve both understanding the roots of men’s loneliness and actively fostering models of masculinity that welcome vulnerability as a strength. In doing so, the culture of romance and male friendship may gradually transform—from pressures to perform to opportunities to connect.