How 'pebbling' helps me maintain my friendships

When a penguin in the wild wants to express its affection for another penguin, they will find a pebble and drop it at the feet of the object of their affection. 

This process is known as pebbling. 

For penguins, the pebbles have a practical purpose: they are an integral part of nests, ensuring that baby penguins have a relatively safe place in which to hatch and grow.

In recent years, the use of "pebbling" has evolved to apply to humans.

Although it was initially adopted within the autistic community to describe a form of gift-giving, or a romantic gesture between members of a couple, it's now also used to refer to one person sending another person (or group of people) a photo or video on social media. 

The photo or video is usually sent without any context. It is, in effect, the human, digital version of a penguin dropping a pebble at the feet of a loved one.

I only learnt of this new meaning for the term last year, but have been engaging in pebbling for a few years.

Learning the pebbling love language

The first instance of pebbling I recall was over 10 years ago, with my friend Melanie. Back then, I was far more anxious than I am now, and social media was not as ubiquitous (at least not for me). 

She'd sent me a meme — the specifics of which I can't recall. 

What I do recall is seeing the meme without context and panicking — what if I said the wrong thing in response? What was she trying to imply with the meme? What subtext was I missing?

I thanked her for sending it and hoped I hadn't somehow ruined our friendship. Spoiler: I hadn't. 

I don't remember when I first started sending other people content in the same way, but now I do it without that second guessing.

Glimpses of my friends' wider worlds

The content about which my friends and I pebble (yes, I use it as a verb) can vary according to what we come across as we scroll through our social media feeds or in response to what's happening in our lives.

For example, my friend Jess loves dogs. Her pet cavoodle, Lincoln, is her best friend, and is beloved by all who meet him. 

She'll often send me pictures of Lincoln at day care, at work with her, or settled next to the book she's reading. 

In this way, I delight not just in Lincoln (who is utterly adorable) but in glimpses of Jess's wider world, too.

When Jess knows I'm stressed at work, she'll send me humorous or encouraging content, and I know she won't be offended if the only thing I offer in reply is a thumbs up or a love heart.

I try to do the same for Jess and my other friends on social media.

When I can't manage a call

Pebbling might seem like a small thing — in some ways, it absolutely is. But, as with anything, the meaning we've ascribed to it can make it something greater.

Every message is a bridge from their minds to mine, a reminder that our bond endures. 

Sometimes pebbling works for me because I'm busy, or I feel too overwhelmed to engage in any other way.

Sometimes — often — it's because I'm exhausted by my cerebral palsy, a disability that drains a disproportionate amount of my energy. 

Most of my energy, by necessity, is devoted to my work. By the end of each weekday, and often on the weekends, the thought of a phone call is too much, and an in-person catch-up is not in the realm of possibility.

But, sending an image or video to a friend as I let myself unwind? That, I can manage. 

Pebbling with intention

If I know that a friend is reading a particular book, or watching a particular show, I'll send content related to that. 

To my fellow disabled friends, I'll send sarcastic content about broken elevators or inaccessible spaces, things I know will resonate.

Friendships are built on so much more than quick content exchanges, of course. They need a foundation of trust and shared understanding, of conversations had and memories made. 

I've got all of those, and I have pebbling, too.

With every reel, image or GIF, I'm trying to say, "I love you," and "I miss you," and "please don't forget about me."

When I can't say those things myself, because of distance or clashing schedules or disability, I hope that pebbling can say it for me.

Laura Pettenuzzo (she/her) is a disabled writer and mental health and disability advocate living on Wurundjeri country.