Freelance Announcer Kanda Manaka Reflects on Loneliness and Inner Struggles

Naturally, I end up going solo

Think about it: when you eat with three people, or ride in a vehicle with three people—where do you usually sit? Side by side with someone, or alone? For me, it’s always the latter: the solo position.

A few times a year, I go out with four friends from middle and high school. As everyone has taken on responsible jobs or has children, opportunities for all of us to meet are rare. Even so, someone always insists, “We should meet!” and even if one person can’t make it, the remaining three of us still go out.

I realized that there’s always one extra person—someone left alone. On a certain hot spring trip, we boarded a train with two-seat rows on either side of the aisle. I said, “I want to work while we travel, so you two sit together,” and I took the solo seat across the aisle.

But once I finished work, speaking to my friends required raising my voice across the aisle. So, we arrived at our destination with almost no conversation. Still, I enjoyed having the adjacent empty seat all to myself—it felt comfortable in its own way.

During meals, it seemed odd for all three of us to sit in a row at the table, so we split into two and one again. Without discussing it, I naturally ended up alone, as if continuing the train arrangement.

Later, in the open-air bath, the bath wasn’t large enough for three adults to sit in a row. Two of us sat away from the water inlet, and I sat near it. Following the pattern from earlier, I naturally ended up alone.

Since then, whenever the three of us go out, I naturally become the solo one.

At work, the solo routine started even earlier. When staying overnight in another city, during dinner I take the seat at the far end, while the manager and makeup artist sit together opposite me.

According to the manager, this arrangement creates a wall, preventing other guests from seeing my face as much as possible. There was a time when I appreciated this level of consideration. But for about seven years now, both in public and private, I’ve been the solo one, and I’ve come to feel an unusually deep sense of loneliness.

Lonely, but Unable to Be Honest About It

Recently, something happened that made things even harder. I found out that my manager and makeup artist had gotten completely hooked on a certain romance reality show, and they were excitedly talking about it when I wasn’t around.

When I said, “Hey, tell me too!” they replied, “We thought you wouldn’t be interested, so we didn’t talk about it.” That was true—I’m not interested in that kind of show at all, and even after finding out, I didn’t watch it.

But now, feeling so lonely as the solo one, my mind instantly goes into negative overdrive. I start thinking, “Maybe they didn’t include me because they find me troublesome!?” and eventually, “Am I disliked by everyone!?”

My being the solo one started because of my own choice and the consideration of others. Normally, I should feel grateful—but instead, I end up thinking like this. I could just say, “Sit next to me,” or “Include me in the conversation,” but a weird sense of pride gets in the way, and I think, “I can’t say something so embarrassing!” Yeah, I’m complicated.

People around me have always thought of me as a tough, steel-like woman. In private, I appear carefree, always biting into challenges, seemingly unaffected by feelings of loneliness. At work, I seem unfazed even when live audiences are taken aback.

But the reality is the opposite. I get depressed from small comments, and I quickly spiral into thoughts like, “Maybe I’m lonely!?” How should I face this side of myself?

There are only two people who have truly seen through me: the duo Haraiti, whom I meet almost every day on the Fuji TV program Pokapoka. On the first day I missed the show due to illness, Sawabe said on the opening, “Kanda-san gets lonely when people get excited without her, so we’ll be a bit awkward today.”

Iwaki nodded deeply. Watching this from home, I was shocked that they saw right through my inner feelings. My fake toughness doesn’t work on them. They’re precious people who make me realize that it’s okay to be honest and rely on others.

★ The author’s first book compiling this series, “Where Does the Path Called ‘The Royal Road’ Lead?”, is now on sale to great acclaim.

Aika Kanda. Born in 1980 in Kanagawa Prefecture. After graduating from the Department of Mathematics, Faculty of Science at Gakushuin University, she joined NHK as an announcer in 2003. She left NHK in 2012 to become a freelance announcer. Since then, she has been active mainly in variety programs and is currently a regular main MC on the daytime show Pokapoka (Fuji TV)

From the September 12 and 19, 2025 combined issue of “FRIDAY”