In Episode 33, AJ & AJ explore one of the most universal yet isolating human experiences: loneliness. They reflect on the different forms it can take—from feeling alone inside a marriage to feeling disconnected from other people, even when you're surrounded by them—and how art became a lifeline when human connection felt out of reach.

"J" begins by sharing the profound loneliness of her first marriage. Having grown up Mormon, she married quickly after knowing her husband for less than a year because that was what was expected within their faith community. They barely knew one another before building a life together. Isolated in a tiny farming town where the only entertainment was a Sonic and a movie theater, she found herself increasingly disconnected. As time went on, the silence between them grew louder than any argument. Conversation disappeared, intimacy faded, and she felt herself disappearing alongside it.

In the midst of that isolation, the one movie that became a huge source of relief was Zoolander. The absurd comedy became more than just a funny movie—it became an escape. Every rewatch offered laughter during a season when joy felt almost impossible to find. In a life defined by silence, the ridiculous world of Derek Zoolander reminded her that she was still capable of experiencing joy and laughter.

"A" then reflects on a very different kind of loneliness during her twenties in New York City. Although she was constantly surrounded by people, she felt deeply disconnected. She dated often, but nothing ever seemed to last. Looking back, she describes feeling like she was treated as a "manic pixie dream girl"—someone exciting enough to pursue but never someone people stayed to truly know. As she was only beginning to unpack the effects of her trauma, she felt profoundly alone. More than anything, she simply wanted to be loved, understood, and held.

Eventually, she moved to New Orleans, throwing herself into work on film sets and into the theater community. Without romantic love in her life, she poured every ounce of herself into making art. Creativity became the place where she could channel all the love, grief, hope, and loneliness she was carrying.

She recalls one unforgettable night driving to Bay St. Louis when she listened to Lana Del Rey's Born to Die for the first time. The album felt like someone had reached inside her own heart and translated feelings she had never been able to articulate. In that moment, she felt understood. Though she was physically alone in the car, the music reminded her that someone else had experienced those same emotions—and survived them.

Together, AJ & AJ reflect on how art often becomes a companion when people cannot. Whether it's a ridiculous comedy, an album that seems to narrate your inner life, or the act of creating something yourself, art has a unique ability to make us feel seen. It doesn't erase loneliness, but it reminds us that someone, somewhere, has felt the same way.