I was a shy child. My mother says that at playtime with the other children, I preferred to watch first, and then join in once I’d carefully observed the dynamics at hand. I wasn’t hiding, necessarily – just waiting for the right moment. As a teenager, I hadn’t changed my behavior, but at that point, I’d been given a laptop for schoolwork and relatively unmonitored internet access. My community was no longer limited to just the people that sat at my lunch table, on the bus that took me to sports practices, or the youth group at my church. I could talk to people anywhere in the world if I wanted to.
I desperately wanted to talk to anyone I could. I signed up for all the different sites I heard about from girls at school. I had a Tumblr, a Lookbook, a LiveJournal, a Facebook, a Twitter…if the other teenage girls were there, so was I. But I never quite figured out how to make wider connections on any of those sites. On LiveJournal, a site totally dependent on the interactions you create, I was too terrified to make a post or to comment on anyone else’s posts. I reblogged other people’s photos and text posts religiously on my Tumblr (shoutout to my OGs who followed…iykyk) but never sent any messages or made my own posts. I used Facebook and Twitter to chat with friends at school, but couldn’t gather courage to build my Twitter network beyond my in-person friendships, even as I saw other writers enjoy such great community on the site. Much like I had as a kid, I watched as other people had fun, and waited for my moment.
Eventually, a moment came where an online community was all I had. Alone in a foreign country doing my masters’ degree, cycling through Covid waves, I spent most of 2022 making friends on apps and on various websites. I realized the great connections that online communities have to offer. I met two of my now closest friends online, both of whom live long plane rides away from me. We bonded over shared interests, not shared circumstances – a stark difference from the friendships I’d previously formed at school and at work. I found it easy to fall into intimacy in late-night and early morning conversations across different time zones. I value the friends I’ve made in person, but I can’t help the walls I’ve put up around myself (I’d be saving a lot of money on therapy if I could), and those walls are just easier to climb when there’s a screen. I’d find that to be more of a problem, but it’s 2024 and I’ve met my online friends in person now. I’m still able to have these conversations with my no-longer-just-online friends now that I’ve seen their lovely faces. And in fact, I think I’m even more able to find vulnerability in my relationships with friends I’ve met in person now that I’ve gotten a step-stool and can at least peek over the aforementioned walls.
Now, I’m creating another moment for myself – another community, another space to be open. I’ve been watching Substack for long enough, and I like what I’ve observed. I’m ready to join in, to talk to those of you who are already here, and to listen to what you have to say. Please, come sit by me!
YESSS! I love picturing little Rachel just sussing out the other children and the social norms before joining in to play--such a cute and tender image. Those observation skills come in clutch now as a writer. I'm shy too (I was just in an online writing workshop and felt very scared to speak) and I wonder often what I'm really afraid of. It's like this vague fear that my brain is embarrassing, or maybe that everyone will notice I am obviously ill-fit for speaking--I'm saying the obvious thing but thinking it's smart (humiliating), I'm not making sense, I'm wasting people's time. But like, god, what a waste of MY time and like...life...to have a whole inner world that i don't share because i assume other people won't be interested. oh, the invisible fences we build for ourselves!! i'm so glad you're here. I love your brain so much, the way you listen and then transform what you've heard into something deeper, the way you open new doors in conversations and take me down fascinating hallways I didn't know were there. grateful to be a witness to your mind here on Substack <3