I sensed the urgency in her message (is that even a thing?). This was serious, and clearly, something was amiss. “Can I call?” she texted. “Sure,” I replied. When she called, her usual bubbly voice quickly unraveled into heart-wrenching sobs. My heart felt like it was splitting in two.
Once you become a parent, forming friendships can become increasingly challenging. You find yourself making connections with other mothers—those of your child’s friends and classmates—and you hope to endure their company through school events and birthday parties. These mom connections often feel akin to what I once referred to as “work friends.” They might not be the friendships you actively chose, but they’re the ones you have. You learn to appreciate the company you keep.
But what about genuine friendships? Playdates can feel like awkward first dates, and attending soccer games can resemble speed dating. Meeting someone you click with feels like an opportunity you must seize immediately, or risk losing a potential buddy for future nail appointments.
In today’s world, the internet serves as the new gathering place for moms looking to connect. Friends from Facebook groups and other online platforms often feel authentic, meaningful, and sometimes even closer than some of your real-life pals.
Yet, are these online connections truly “real”? I had long believed they were somewhat inferior to my in-person friendships, or at least different in nature. My journey into this realm of digital friendships began with AOL Messenger—who can forget that dial-up sound and the frustration of getting disconnected?
One online friend, Sarah, stands out as someone I’ve been fortunate enough to meet once in person. She is one of those rare individuals whose kindness and generosity shine brightly. Her laughter is infectious, and people are drawn to her warmth. Despite her own challenges, she uses her experiences to uplift others, embodying the essence of true friendship. I feel grateful to have her in my life.
However, because our relationship primarily existed online, I hadn’t fully grasped the depth of our connection—until she reached out one day in distress. If I continue with my dating analogy, this was the moment we solidified our bond.
When I heard her tearful voice, I felt disoriented. It was a side of her I wasn’t accustomed to seeing. While I’ve encountered her frustrations before, this was different. I’m typically the problem solver, the one who offers support and advice. But that day, I felt powerless. I wasn’t physically present for her; I didn’t know the nuances of her situation or the people involved. I couldn’t provide a comforting hug. Initially, I thought she might need more than just a “virtual friend.” But then it dawned on me—she wouldn’t have reached out if she didn’t consider me more than that.
I did my best to offer a listening ear. She needed to vent, to be acknowledged. My hope was to provide her with some temporary solace. As she has done countless times, she faced her challenges with grace and reminded me why I admire her so much.
In a way, our online friendship felt validated; we had crossed some invisible threshold. I apologize if my dating metaphor is getting thin, but it feels like we’ve become engaged in this friendship—moving to a new level of connection that suggests longevity.
The takeaway? Never underestimate the authenticity of friendships forged online. Whether you meet in person or not, the essence of the relationship remains intact. I’m grateful that Sarah reached out and, even if not physically present, I could be there for her.