My Unexpected Online Friendship

Better Late than Never

Photo by John Schnobrich on Unsplash

About ten years ago, I received a student paper analyzing a serious romantic relationship between two people who had never met face-to-face. Sally (not her real name) wrote about the strong sexual and intimate bond she shared with her fiancé, despite living in separate states. The couple had met online, dated online, fallen in love online, and finally gotten engaged online. At the time she submitted the essay, Sally and her fiancé were working on the logistics of their first face-to-face encounter.

Until I received Sally’s paper, all my students had written about face-to-face relationships. Their selections focused on an interdependent relationship—parent, sibling, friend, spouse, or lover—with whom they shared physical space. My assignment required students to take a deep analytical dive, consider the selected relationship through a theoretical lens, and contemplate the degree to which the relationship added value to their life. A 100% online love affair? Really?

Sally’s paper gave me pause. I’d never even had online friends, let alone lovers. Ten years ago, the research I shared with my students about online relationships focused on two areas: 1) statistical data that illuminated the type, frequency, and trends of online relationships, and 2) the potential dangers associated with online relationships (think: Catfish). There are plenty of articles indicating that when people interact online, they’re not always honest. I knew that online dating was here to stay, but I wanted my students to exercise caution (and I still do!).

And if I’m being honest, I had some negative judgments about online relationships. Sure, I had Facebook friends and people I’d been introduced to online via colleagues or family members, but I didn’t have “real” online friends. I’d never invested in an online friendship the way I’d invested time and energy with my “real” friends. That changed, however, when I took a virtual writing class and made friends with Casey O’Connell.

My ideas about online relationships have changed dramatically over the past decade. I believe that online friendships have the power to significantly enhance our lives. My students, especially those who self-identify as introverts, tend to have lots of online friends. This was true long before I received Sally’s paper. For example, my students share stories with me about the friends they’ve made internationally based on shared interests like gaming and fan fiction. One student shared in a recent class discussion:

“I have health problems and don’t leave my house much, so all of my friends are online. I have friends in Sweden, Japan, France…my friends live all over the world. We meet gaming and hang out on Discord. Without these friendships, my life would be incredibly lonely.”

Even though the theoretical perspectives shared in my interpersonal communication class have changed over the years when it comes to online intimacy, my students’ experiences were notably different than mine. I grew up before the internet was a thing, before cellphones and social media existed, so hopping on Discord didn’t come naturally. To me, friendship still meant spending time face-to-face in long conversations over coffee, shared activities, lending a hand in times of need, and figuring out how to squeeze lunch dates into busy schedules.

There are three common types of friendships: reciprocal, associative, and receptive. These vary in form and intensity. Reciprocal friendships involve people who are equally invested in the relationship. If you have a “best friend,” they fall into this category. Associative friendships are more like close acquaintances and tend to form around shared interests. They don’t necessarily endure but offer valuable social bonding. Receptive friendships tend to have a power imbalance, such as the friendship you may have with your boss. These relationships can be very meaningful; however, they become tricky if the power imbalance gets in the way.

I liked Casey, my memoir writing class partner, from the start. We were paired because we both requested a “high accountability” writing partner on our pre-class questionnaire. “Kindred Type-A spirits,” I thought. Once we learned that we’d be spending six months supporting each other’s book projects, we scheduled a Zoom meeting to talk about our goals for the course.

It was all business at first. We were serious about our writing schedules. We were both working on a memoir (Casey’s is about walking the Camino and mine is about moving to Puerto Rico and becoming a cryptocurrency trader). We agreed to exchange writing and feedback weekly—more than our class required—which was energizing. I admired organized, smart women, and Casey clearly fit this description.

We had lots of things in common. We were both teachers, loved to travel, and were certified yoga instructors. When our relationship shifted from assigned class partners to associative friends to reciprocal friends…I was surprised. We’d never even met for a cup of coffee! Most of our communication happened via email! Still, Casey and I communicated every week and commiserated over much more than writer’s block.

If having an “old soul” is a real thing, Casey falls into this category. Turns out she’s not the Type-A-Control-Freak I am. She’s just a hard worker, but one who stays grounded. She’s also funny, wise and kind.

The first thing you see when you walk into my office are bright pink sticky notes. They’re stuck to my desk, attached to the walls, and hugging the sides of my computer. I like to check things off my to-do list; I’m a conqueror of tasks. After a year of working with Casey, I’ve slowed down a little but enjoy writing more. I’m less concerned with checking the boxes, and my sticky note pile has receded ever-so-slightly. Friends can rub off on us, even change our perspectives on topics like “productivity.”

After six months, our memoir writing class came to an end, but by then, my friendship with Casey was just getting started. We had shared more than pages, more than the secrets revealed in our book chapters; we believed in each other. We encouraged each other as writers, as women, and as friends.

In The Art of Memoir, Mary Karr says,

“In some ways, writing a memoir is knocking yourself out with your own fist, if it’s done right.”

Writing just about anything for an audience requires courage. Now, make the subject matter a deeply personal memoir? Pages filled with hard lessons learned? Embarrassing secrets? Painful truths? Just the thought makes most of us uncomfortable. Casey and I shared this kind of writing and offered solace after watching the other knock herself out, over and over.

Casey and I are still writing partners and friends, but our online relational designation has changed. Last month, we met in person at the San Miguel Writer’s Festival! If you read my last post, you know I had a wonderful time, and this was especially true because I got to hang out with Casey. (Check out Casey’s Substack if you want to read her work).

They say a true friend knows all about you and still loves you. If you happen to meet this friend in a memoir writing class, I think this is particularly true. Thanks, Casey, for reading about my life, accepting me (warts and all), and teaching me about the value of online friendship.

What are your experiences with online friendship? Do you have reciprocal, associative, or receptive online friends? If so, how do these friends enhance your life? I’d love to hear from you!