Virtual Relations are Made of Real People, Not Disposable Articles
Human connections are precious, stop treating people as if they don’t matter
We live in a technological era. The dynamic of relationships changed, we went from “I’ll call you when I get home,” to immediate responses. We are always available to react; we are always connected — but to apps, not necessarily to the people on the other end of the screen.
I use her phone regularly: it’s where I listen to music, to audiobooks, it’s my camera; where I read and sometimes write. It’s also a way to maintain contact with my loved ones and acquaintances, and an instrument for my day job.
Our phones have a world inside them. But one we should relearn how to use, at least in what human relations regards.
In the last two years, I’ve noticed growing depersonalization in how people manage online relationships. Nowadays everybody has online friends; I do, and I cherish them. I have friends I’ve never met, but we talk often, and we are a support in each other’s life. I’m sure you know stories of people who met online, either on dating apps or on Facebook/Twitter and ended up as a happy couple.
Online relationships can take many forms and dynamics and are a part of our reality. I am utterly well adapted to it, except for some bits.
There’s one thing in particular that hurts me in the online world: the way many people neglect the emotions their actions cause. The screen in front of them acts like a blind in their hearts, shielding them from realizing their actions can be offensive and hurtful.
Maybe I am wrong to expect people to act online with the same values and norms they do personally, but after giving it a lot of thought, I don’t think I am. When online, I am the same person as I am face to face. As so, I am entitled to expect the same from others.
If I care about someone or, at least, show some curiosity about the person and act like I want to know more about her, I won’t suddenly stop interacting. Even worse: I won’t suddenly disappear!
This happened to me a few times now, and I honestly struggle to cope with it. I was ghosted by a close friend a couple of years ago, and it hurt me deeply. Since then, I have been ghosted online twice. The feeling wasn’t comparable as to what my “friend” did, because I didn’t have the time to become attached to those two people. Still, it caused me sadness and disappointment.
I didn’t take it personally but it did cause me the sensation of being disposable. And that, I truly don’t like, I hated to put myself in that place.
I’m not everybody's cup of tea; not everybody who meets me will like me. Yet, even if in a conversation I say something seemingly rude or not nice, it’s not a plausible reason for someone to evaporate.
When you are face to face with someone and s/he says something you don’t agree or you don’t feel is right, you discuss it. Or make a look showing your discontent. You react!
What upsets me the most is that in both of my virtual ghosting cases, I said nothing rude or stupid. I’ve reread the last conversations, and they were exactly the same tone and content as the ones we were having before. My last one, from 3 days ago I said: “What can I do to cheer you up? Do you want cool music, a good joke, do you need to vent?” That was it. We have been chatting, daily, for two weeks and out of nowhere, it’s gone. Without any apparent cause.
I’m disappointed, but I’m ok, the person did what was needed to feel better. But I honestly think that if our time “together” was over, I was owed a goodbye. It’s not about expectations, it’s about politeness. I am not disposable, no one is!
I won’t change who I am or how I act online: what you read is what you get. I will, perhaps, start to interact less, to trust less. It’s time for me to get used to the incredibly fast pace of human interactions; to the fact that only a few who cross my life will stay longer than a couple of weeks.
It’s not the reality I chose to live, but as much as an introvert as I am, I crave human contact, I love shared laughs, dark humour competitions, venting with a friend, to pretending with a stranger that everything in my life is alright. We all need our escapes. We are similar despite being so different.
I am disappointed with people, with the lack of value some put on human connections, on how easy it became to substitute one virtual acquaintance for another. Even so, I am here, with an open mind and heart, available for my real friends: personal and virtual. I need you, and I love to have you close, even if far away.
If you also have virtual friends and acquaintances, please cherish them: like you, they have emotions and feel deeply things that happen to them. Even if you don’t see it.
Reading suggestions:
