Internet Friends

I have good friends I have never met before. We have talked about our deepest fears Laughed at the blackest of humor. We have confided embarrassing secrets. And even shared tips for how to look leaner while flexing on the Gram. But we have never hung out IRL. That’s “In Real Life” for the uninitiated. The Internet has gifted me these friends. They encourage me when I am feeling low and expose something beneath the façade online. Hell, some of them have even admired my genitalia when I have felt brave enough on Twitter and Tumblr. I have talked with these folks about relationships, and break ups, and the nature of loneliness. I have felt comfortable being emotionally naked with them. It’s ironic because they are technically strangers.

But I believe that is precisely why I feel so at home with these people, because they don’t know me. And if they were to decide to never speak to me again, I wouldn’t feel super hurt. Nevertheless, we connect. One the web. On the apps. Online. Here I get permission to be my full self. Unapologetically. Back in the day, I used to chat with people on Talk City and online forums. Some of you may be too young or too old to know about it. But Millennials have participated in making Internet friends in a plethora of ways.

Growing up bisexual, in the South, I used the Internet to first explore my sexuality. And not just through porn—although that was a defining element—but also through gay chatrooms. The old heads will remember Men 4 Now and Black Gay Chat(BGC Live) for all the closeted queer kids in your area. Nowadays, Jack’d and Grind’r or a mountain of other apps have replaced these sites.

The platforms look different now, however, the foundation is the same. It is a sometimes-seedy cruising spot where guys go to find a hookup in their neighborhood. But for folks like myself, who were still too afraid to act on their same-gender attraction, it simply a refuge. A place where I could talk about the boy in my class who I had a crush on. Or where I could discuss my first wet dream featuring TLC and Beyonce. True story. It was a place where many of us go to not feel so alone.

My generation of Internet users also remember the days of cheat codes. Hours spent scouring the reaches of the Web to see how to get a helicopter on Grand Theft Auto or skip a level on Tomb Raider. Down, right, left, up. The Invisibility Code on Twisted Metal was too clutch! Videogame forums used to be littered with a wealth of tips and tricks before 100-page stategy guides became a thing. It was a collective pooling of resources. A database of shared knowledge that we all benefited from because we all understood that our publishing of our own findings on the console would benefit a whole network of users. A divided group, joined together for a common task. A Fraternity of gamers scaling the same steep cliff.

I think the function remains similar all these years later. We are all in search of our ilk. A community. And so, I go to these sites and share my information with these apps. I expose myself in every context of the word because all the things the Boomer generation keeps locked in their closets are the very things that are helping my generation feel free.

Consequently, I reply to my Internet friends’ stories. I comment on their posts. I twerk all down our shared timeline. And my Internet friends digitally smack my ass and say “Werk bitch!” It is an unconventional connection, but still a meaningful one. As Meg Ryan said in You’ve Got Mail, “I know we have talked about a whole lot of nothing. But all this nothing has meant more to me than so many somethings.” Won’t you be my friend?