Internet friendships made during the pandemic are just as important as in-person ones
C/O Ben Collins/Unsplash
By: Anrya Foubert, Contributor
Friendships can be complicated and messy, but they can also be the greatest things to exist. The friends you have can bring you more joy than you ever thought possible.
Yet, during the pandemic and a large transition such as going to university for the first time, it can feel next to impossible to make friends and connections. But thanks to the internet, we are still able to spend time with people that we would be isolated from otherwise.
Many of us probably grew up with the message that “you shouldn't talk to strangers online because it could be dangerous” from our parents or guardians.
But these days, internet friends are becoming more and more important as it connects others while we all have to remain home and provides us with ways to connect with people all around the world.
But these days, internet friends are becoming more and more important as it connects others while we all have to remain home and provides us with ways to connect with people all around the world.
Of course, they can be just as important as real in-person friendships, but many people may believe this is not the case because internet friends can't really interact physically.
The people you chat with online aren't exactly people you can easily go to get food with, have a game night, bonfire or even just a general party. Since they likely live far away and you can't really physically interact with them, internet friendships can feel less real. They can feel as if the person almost doesn't really exist even if you know that they really do.
It may be the subliminal messaging many of us grew up with, the stories of catfishing and lying to others about who you are via the internet, that made us believe that internet friendships aren’t as “valid” or “real.”
However, many people are turning to internet friendships as a way to make new friends during the pandemic. As a first-year student, I haven't been able to meet any of my classmates in person yet but I've been able to create connections with them online. It has still been weird that we haven't gotten to see the people we spend large amounts of time with each week in person.
Even the people I’m moving in with later this year are people I haven't met in person before. But I still am friends with those people and others because of the connection via the magical place we call the internet.
Even the people I’m moving in with later this year are people I haven't met in person before. But I still am friends with those people and others because of the connection via the magical place we call the internet.
Platforms such as Instagram, Facebook, Tumblr, Twitter and Snapchat (to name a few) are amazing ways to meet new people. By using social media platforms, you can meet people that have similar interests to your own.
Some of my strongest friendships have been with people I met over the internet. I have a group of friends based in Australia while I reside in Canada and in all honesty, they are the type of people I have been trying to surround myself with for years.
I had long outgrown my peer group in high school and had ended up surrounding myself with not the best influences or most supportive people about halfway through Grade 11.
For some odd reason, these people I met online and only really started talking to on a regular basis at the beginning of quarantine have somehow been the most supportive people I have met and have helped me in more ways than they could ever possibly know. They are just as valued to me as those who are geographically closer to me and I’ve planned on visiting/going on exchange to Australia for some time.
Now I know that if I should go across the globe to study for a while, I will have people that I know there. While I won’t be able to meet them face-to-face for some time, I look forward to the day I can and I know that my friendship with them is valid, even if we can't do things that in-person friends can.
Now I know that if I should go across the globe to study for a while, I will have people that I know there. While I won’t be able to meet them face-to-face for some time, I look forward to the day I can and I know that my friendship with them is valid, even if we can't do things that in-person friends can.
It’s important to remember that outside of a pandemic, meeting people on the internet is still a completely valid and great way to foster new friendships. We may rely on it more now than ever due to global-scale lockdowns, but they still existed before and will continue to exist after the pandemic.
Shamudi Gunasekera
The Silhouette
“Hey, how are you?”
“I’m good, how are you?”
“Good.”
And it goes on.
Ever since my arrival at university last fall, I’ve heard these conversations erupt all around me. At coffee shops, in lecture halls, at the grocery store, no matter where I go I can’t seem to avoid overhearing such painfully (to my ears, at least) mundane conversations that appear to go nowhere.
My attempts at such conversations result in an awkward silence with the other person checking their phone and me simply staring off into the distance and shifting nervously from one foot to the other, wishing I was at home in my bed, surrounded by my books and wrapped in the warmth of my enormous blanket.
I’m so accustomed to diving into familiar topics with friends and family that I’ve forgotten how to converse with strangers. Or perhaps I wasn’t equipped with such a skill in the first place.
And so, my first year at university passed with me connecting with a bare minimum of people, people who I know through friends and housemates and people from my high school who chose to attend the same university.
This year would be different, I promised myself. This year I would try and embrace the uncomfortable presence of others.
And embrace it I did. The morning of Clubsfest I wandered around campus, signing up for various activities that piqued my interest.
When I showed up to my first dance practice, I was extremely nervous. My housemates did not sign up with me so I was on my own. Everyone else seemed to have a friend. I wanted to run back into the safety of my blanket.
Instead, I took a deep breath and approached someone.
At first, I did encounter many who were as awkward as I was, who didn’t seem interested in making conversation, or who couldn’t get past making polite conversation. But then I encountered the rare gems that were surprisingly easy to talk to. Not too long ago, I decided to attend a board game night held by one of the clubs I am now a part of. It was quite a small gathering of people, and everyone seemed comfortable with each other. I seated myself at the very edge of the couch as I watched everyone play. The person next to me kept asking for my opinion for which cards he should choose for the game of Cards Against Humanity. I was a stranger to him, but I enjoyed the ease at which the conversation started. There was no questioning of what program I was in, nor was there an awkward pause where we knew not what to say.
Little by little, I found other such people. I had to endure a number of dull conversations, but I found people who I had things in common with, who didn’t ask the same questions over and over again. And as I kept going to more practices and meetings, I interacted with them more and the more I got to know them, the more I liked them. I enjoy hearing people laugh as they tell me their stories, the corners of their eyes crinkling up, a certain light discount cialis and viagra in their eyes as they go to far off places only they can see.
I still have trouble talking to strangers, but once the conversation gets past the monotonous questions that I’ve answered too many times, we actually become friends. Slowly, but surely, I’m getting to the point where I feel comfortable conversing with strangers.
Samhita Misra
The Silhouette
It was the end of a twelve-hour workday when I sat down on the subway in Toronto, heading home. With a pounding headache and shoulders in desperate need of a massage, I pulled out my phone and began playing with it. Texting wasn’t an option underground, but I thought the message was pretty clear: my people skills were declining by the minute.
The man beside me was muttering. Mental illness, maybe, I thought. Not wanting him to feel like he was being judged, I didn’t look up. My phone’s limited uses grew all the more fascinating.
“Come on, how are you?” he said suddenly, cutting into my thoughts and leaning in.
“Oh! Good, thanks, how are you?” I replied, thinking I could no longer “respectfully” ignore him without being a jerk.
We conversed.
He was a Polish man trying to improve his English, he said, apologizing frequently for bothering me.
“You have nothing to apologize for,” I repeated adamantly with each apology.
As we spoke, I thought back to my previous impressions and felt horrible. Here I was, making assumptions about his life when I hate being defined by my own challenges. I struggled to make up for it by smiling warmly.
He kissed my hand and said, “you’re a very nice girl.”
I didn’t know how to take that.
Physical affection is important to me. Tight hugs and kisses on the cheek are a part of my daily life with those who are close to my heart. He was not, but then again, perhaps that was again my fault for being too quick to judge.
I smiled awkwardly, glancing at everyone else on the subway. Dryly, I noted that advertisements and fingernails seemed to be just as interesting to them as my phone had been to me minutes ago. The train was silent.
“Have a boyfriend?” he asked.
“No,” I replied, my compensative smile never wavering.
“No, you must have,” he insisted. “But say hi to Polish man, bye to boyfriend.”
My feminist heart clenched at the implication. It clenched further still when he stood up to leave, gesturing for me to follow him out and knocking on the window behind me to ask me again.
In the days since, I’ve thought about the man on the subway. My first impression may have been accurate: he could have had a mental illness, and far be it for me to judge him for it.
Alternatively, he may, as he said, have been a Polish man in a new country, lonely and looking for affection without understanding proper etiquette. Having known the excruciating pain of loneliness, my heart went out to him.
But what if it was more? What if my feminist heart had not misunderstood his words and gestures?
Friends, family and mentors have given me a couple of tips since then. First, if asked about a boyfriend, always say yes. Second, safety over courtesy: ignore him or get off the train.
The first is a tactic I hope never to use. As for the second, I can’t help but think that kindness is more than merely courtesy.
While boundaries must be respected and safety must be considered, I can’t help but think that in a society of averted glances, clipped answers and hasty exits, a little kindness can save each of us from the stigma and feelings of helplessness that surround our own, individual challenges.
