What’s Love Got to Do with Public Health?

Every so often, I hear a heartbreaking story on the news:  

Someone is found dead in their home days or even weeks after they passed.

No one noticed.  

No one came by.  

No one called until it was far too late.

Whenever I hear those stories, one question sits in my chest: Who misses me if I’m not around?

It sounds like an emotional question, but I’ve come to see it as a public health question, too.

Because the difference between being surrounded by people who love you and being completely alone doesn’t just shape how you *feel*—it shapes **how long you live and how well your body holds up over time**.

So, what’s love got to do with public health?  A lot more than we usually admit.

What I Found When I Googled It

During a conversation about this topic, I did what many of us do when we’re curious—I Googled it. I typed in: “What does love have to do with public health?”  

What I found was striking. According to that summary, love and strong social connections:

- Reduce stress

- Lower blood pressure

- Boost immunity

- Improve mental well-being

- Increase longevity

On the other side, the absence of love and connection—loneliness and isolation—is linked to:

- Worse physical and mental health

- Higher risk of chronic disease

- A risk of early death that is comparable to smoking

My quick search leads me to conclude that love and connection have real health benefits: They promote healthier behaviors, provide crucial emotional support, and serve as protective factors against chronic illness and substance misuse. This conclusion is backed up by science. 

Public health researchers are starting to say out loud what many of us already know in our bones: loneliness is a growing public health problem, and connection is part of the cure.

Love vs. Loneliness: Two Different Health Paths

When I talk about “love” here, I’m not just talking about romance. I’m talking about **being connected, being known, being cared for.

When Love and Connection Are Present

Think about what happens when you have your person or your circle. I think about the people in my life who:

- Notice when I’m quiet or “off” and ask, “Are you okay?”  

- Say, “You don’t sound right—have you seen a doctor?”  

- Sit with me when life is heavy, or celebrate with me when something goes right.

That kind of connection doesn’t just make me feel better. I am better–I have lower stress and blood pressure. This connection also makes it more likely that I will engage in healthy activities like eating regular meals and sleeping a little better, or actually going to the doctor instead of ignoring symptoms.

In other words, supportive relationships are the everyday, informal “public health workers” in my life, whether they realize it or not.

Now imagine the other side. When no one calls or checks in with you, people in that position are more likely to:

- Slide into depression

- Cope with substance use

- Delay seeking help until it’s too late

- Die earlier than they should have

Dr. Vivek H. Murthy, 19th and 21st Surgeon General of the United States, cites research on the epidemic of loneliness, stating, “The mortality impact of being socially disconnected is similar to that caused by smoking up to 15 cigarettes a day.” 

So when I ask myself, “Who misses me if I’m not around?” what I’m really asking is: Who’s helping protect my health by staying connected to me—and whose health am I protecting by staying connected to them?

Research supports that community, love, and a supportive village are strategies that help reinforce our humanity when the world keeps trying to deny it.

Although we may encounter racism and injustice, we don’t have to carry it alone. When we have strong support and connection with family and friends, they help validate our experiences, provide comfort, and offer strategies.

Without that support, the same discrimination and stress cut deeper and stay longer.

Also, the health consequences—physical and mental—are often more severe.

For communities that are constantly navigating hostility, love isn’t optional. It is a vital, health‑preserving, and life‑extending resource.

Reframing Love as Public Health (Not Just Romance)

Let me be clear. When I talk about love in a public health context, I am not saying,

“Go find a romantic partner and your problems will be solved.”

As a Black woman, and thinking particularly about other single Black women, I know many of us have not found “Mr. Right”. That does not mean we are doomed to poor health.

Love, in this context, includes:

• Family members who show up

• Friends who we can be real with

• Church or community folks who notice when we’re missing

• A small circle that knows our story and cares about our well‑being

The question is not, “Am I coupled?” Rather, it is “Am I connected?”

If I truly believe love protects health—and I do—then public health work and my own health work must also be about protecting and growing those connections, not just counting steps and tracking lab results.

Your Call to Action: Identify Your Person (and Be Theirs)

So what do we do with all of this? Of course, I’m inviting you to Do Something with M.E.

Commit to the following: 

Step 1: Identify “Your Person” or Your Circle

Ask yourself:

- Who notices when I go quiet?  

- Who would miss me if I didn’t show up?  

- Who can I tell the truth to about how I’m really doing?

Whether it be a group chat, a sibling, a cousin, a neighbor, a church friend, name them.

Step 2: Set Up an Intentional Check‑In

Then, make it intentional. Agree on a regular check-in–a weekly text, a Sunday afternoon call, or a simple “Are you good?” message. You might even agree, “If we don’t hear from each other in X days, we check in.”

And remember: being check‑in‑able is part of this, too. That is, you have to answer the call, respond when people reach out, and let someone know when you’re struggling, instead of disappearing, for example.

If you have the capacity, think of one person who might be isolated—the neighbor who lives alone, the coworker who never joins anything—and reach out to them. Invite them into something: a conversation, a walk, a game night, a service, a group.

Love and strong social ties are not just nice extras. They are public health tools.

Loneliness and isolation are not just “sad”; they are public health threats.

We can’t control everything, but we can work to ensure fewer people live and die with no one missing them when they’re gone.

What’s love got to do with public health? Everything—when it keeps us seen, supported, and still here.