Yes, I have internet friends. No, they’re not paedophiles.
It’s 2016, I’m 21 years old, and for some unknown reason I still feel the need to lie to people about where I’ve met some of my friends. No, they’re not criminals or drug dealers, people smugglers or sex offenders.
I met them online.
Yes, for those of you over 35 this may sound like an alien concept. When you tell someone that you’ve met a person online, I reckon they imagine that you’ve really met some oddball sat in an internet café on the other side of the world. They concoct this idea that everyone on the internet has some kind of malicious intent behind their actions, which we do know in some cases to be true — just look at the dark side of the net. It’s not pretty, I know.
Maybe I’ve been incredibly lucky in my journey through the internet that I’ve managed to stay clear of weirdos — that is if we ignore the odd message from an anonymous (probably male) creep, who asks to see my tits. They swiftly get blocked and deleted anyway.
The truth of the matter is, I don’t think I’d be the person I am today without experiencing the love and the loss that my online friendships have given me. Some of my connections are years old, we celebrate birthdays with gifts, text all day and all night, ask each other for opinions on selfies before we post them on Instagram. Interesting, isn’t it, that this sounds just like any other friendship two people could share in real life?
When then, does an internet friendship become just that — a real life friendship. What lines have to be crossed? The first time you hear each others voices, confirming that no ‘catfishing’ is taking place? What about spending money on the other person, as if to affirm the solidity of your relationship with material possessions?
Maybe it’s being there for them at 2am when it feels like their world is falling apart.
With internet friendships, even the downsides have upsides. Not everyone that I’ve ever made friends with online is still my friend today, and unlike real life, I didn’t necessarily have to have fallen out with a person for a friendship to end. Unfortunately, time zones exist. Keeping up with someone who lives, quite literally, on the other side of the world is hard work, and it’s not surprising that I’ve had many brief friendships that have fizzled out simply because there was never time to talk.
Sadly, friendships do also end when nasty things are said. When rumours are spread about you through anonymous messages, or online games of Chinese Whispers. Sometimes, it hurts more than you think it could, to know that someone who you’ve likely never met, who is sat behind a computer screen in a completely different country could write such horrible things. There are also instances when you notice that you’ve inexplicably been blocked by someone — and all you can do is laugh.
Again, almost like real life. Friendships begin and end. You get sad and you also feel relief. Funny that.
As Diana Ross once said, I’m coming out — not literally, of course. That would be messy and thoughtless, trivialising a process that many LGBTQIA+ people experience. No, I simply just want the world to know. I’ve made friends online and will likely continue to do so for the rest of my life, especially with the rise of apps such as Hey! VINA (which tries to find you a best friend in a style similar to Tinder) and I’m not ashamed for people to know anymore. As I’ve said before in my Learning to Love Yourself article, doing things that make you happy is the key to being at peace with yourself, and if sharing friendships with people online makes you happy — then why be ashamed?
