you & me

Finding My Tribe: Online Friendships & Inner Judgment.

Virginia Woolf

Over the last four months I have developed some beautiful and close knit friendships online, through the online writing community.

I’ve daydreamed of this for a long time, longer than I had realized, until a couple of months before they came into my life. I realized that I was longing for — a deep longing from within my heart — a group of women who I can connect with, who get it, who live lives like I want to — or do — live mine, that inspire me, and that leave me feeling grateful for their friendship, and grounded in their company, their conversation.

I have found that thing I was looking for — that place I can go to when needs must, and even when they don’t.

I have this world outside of me where I can access wisdom and words that nestle deep into my soul and help me connect to mine — my words, and my soul. That help me find the wisdom that I hold as mine but wisdom that can feel astray when my critic is booming, is blaring, and I find it difficult to tap into my soul-speak.

I have beautiful connections that feel supportive and a few have become part of my best friends circle. I can feel their love and support even when I’m not with them. I know they’re there.

And when I speak with them, I feel real, deep, and tender, love for them — just like I would a friend offline, who I hang out with and connect with in person, or who I call up, and see every now and again.

And most of all, I feel a connection that feels really, really, real. And is. It’s just different to normal — to what I’ve been used to, until now.

And actually, if anything, this is form of connecting, this platform for friendship, is actually incredibly normal now, anyway.

I just still feel like I’m getting used to it (although I’m pretty much there now — it’s taken until now for me to really allow myself to see them as a circle of support, to see them as true friends, because they’re not in front of me, they’re not sat beside me literally. They’re sat beside me, with me, through spirit but not physically.)

The connection we have, the connection I have with them, is a connection I don’t need to force. A connection that allows me to be myself within my own four walls at home, or with the landscape of green and wilderness beside me.

It’s the joy of modern day life and the way we can be always connected (a joy that at times I hate but for this reason, in this case, I love it; these friendships can be with me, wherever I go.)

That goes for other friendships and connections and love in my life also — friends I see in person, friends I can call.

The love, friendship, and connection, is still there even when we’re not speaking, it’s just that the friendships I connect with online, are friendships I can dip into my pocket and connect with straight away, wherever I am and whatever I’m doing. Its almost like they are with me all of the time. (Provided I have phone signal.)

This in some ways increases the intimacy and connection, and perhaps depth, in a way that in-person friendships don’t have. But these friendships — the ones I have in person — increase the intimacy by being skin-to-skin, hand-to-hand, back-to-back friendships.

There is no comparison, only difference.

So despite this beauty and this support, this intimacy and this connection, I have a voice of judgment in my head that runs wild and deep, that cuts into that love and that friendship and feeling of support, leaving me wondering whether it’s real. Leaving me wondering whether it’s all in my head.

“They’re not real friends, they’re not real friendships. They’re fake, they’re pretend, they don’t mean anything, and they certainly don’t mean as much as you think they do, because they’re not real-life, in-front-of-you friendships. They’re not in the flesh.

You can’t see them for real, in person, so you can’t feel that love for them and they can’t feel that love for you. That feeling of connection and support is fake. It’s fake just like you and just like this friendship.

If they met you and hung out with you in real life, they’d fucking hate you, so what makes you think they love you online when they wouldn’t love you in person? You give them just as much as shit as you give yourself, so shut the fuck up and sort it out.

Go find some real life friends that love you for who you are, not the way you write online.”

That voice is a mean motherfucker.

He is here for protection, to protect me from hurts just like he has done in the past, but this protection isn’t relevant or needed in this way anymore. It leaves me feeling disconnected at a time I desperately need, and deserve, this connection.

And something I only just realized is that that voice, that criticism and judgment, is here with me with friendships that are in person, it’s just a different dialogue that is spinning.

Instead of details about the online friendship and the online community, it throws out details and stories and theories about my face-to-face contact and my face-to-face friendships.

“She doesn’t really love you, she only hangs out with you because she feels sorry for you and she thinks you need her. She doesn’t really give a shit, she’s only there because she has to be, because you asked her to, because she feels guilty if she’s not.

She doesn’t love you like she says she does, she wouldn’t notice if you upped and left, if you suddenly weren’t here, because she can replace you.

That voice telling you you’re irreplaceable, you’re special, you’re different, you’re unique and that there’s no-one else exactly like you, and that you are valued in a friendship, is talking bullshit. She — that part of you saying that — doesn’t know.

She hasn’t been there, to the depths of your soul, your mind, your psyche.

She hasn’t seen the whole of you. I have. She doesn’t understand the difference between love and hate. I do, I can spot it, and I see it with all your friendships. They would hate you if they knew you and saw you for who you really are.

And the ones that have, the ones that do, fucking hate you. I do. So they do, too.”

I could write out that voice forever.

It’s full of these kind of words that only seem to let loose fully, when I let them speak. Otherwise they linger, they lust for the love that my inner critic gives them. And I grieve. Because whether I’m listening to them directly, intimately, or not, they’re still there. They’re still saying something.

And I feel the pain that lies beneath them, beneath the voices of criticism. I feel the pain that lies beneath these seeming truths.

I rebel against the desire to hang out with these friends and invest in my friendships-through-writing, for a while, listening to this voice and these seeming truths — panicking at the realness of them, and judging myself for feeling so connected to and supported by, and wanting to spend time with people I connect with through a computer.

But I do it, in a different way, with friendships around me here, in-the-flesh. I rebel against those and wonder if they’re real or not, anyway.

So realizing that this voice, this critical dialogue, these doubts, are there regardless of the platform the friendship is held upon, fills me with relief. And I smile. Because this internal happening, this self-doubt and criticism and rebelling will probably always be there to some extent.

It’s what makes me human. It’s what makes you human, too.

And so I hope, as I continue to heal and strengthen in myself, this ability to look at my inner dialogue and self-doubt — the things that easily trip me up — and show up in the friendships anyway, will continue to deepen, and always be here.

Whether they’re friendships-through-writing or in-the-flesh friendships, there’s love there and that love is true, regardless of the format it’s offered to me through, and regardless of the love I give it through.

Some of my friendships-through-writing bring a depth, a connection, that is different to some of my in-person friendships. And some of my in-person friendships bring a different depth and a connection that my friendships-through-writing.

There’s no comparison, only difference.

 

*****

#RebelleTribe

Comments

Amani Omejer

Amani Omejer

Amani lives in Bristol, UK. She can be found enjoying herbalism, swimming in rivers, surfing, laughing, and talking about life with friends or anyone who will listen. She is a firm believer in telling your story in order to heal. She is currently writing a book. Connect with her on Facebook or take a look at her website.
Amani Omejer
Amani Omejer