How online friendships saved me in my teens

I was an extremely anxious adolescent. 

I had family and friends, and I loved them dearly, but there were some things I felt I couldn't tell them. 

WARNING: This story contains references to self-harm and suicidal ideation.

That I was self-harming, for instance. That I knew, deep within me, that I was a failure: as a daughter, as a sister, as a student, as a person. That it seemed like the world and everyone around me would be better off without me and the darkness I carried. 

Thankfully, there were times when the anxiety abated, when I felt some reprieve from my relentless emotional invalidation and negative self-talk. 

Those times became more frequent when I found fan fiction and, subsequently, online friends.   

I found a sense of community online

My English teacher knew I was a writer, so she told me about a website one of her other students had joined, where people wrote stories using the characters and worlds of various films, TV shows or books. And so my fascination with fan-fiction began.

I found stories that put into words the things I couldn't name out loud. Stories about characters who were queer, or suspected they were — a suspicion I had long harboured about myself — and afraid of what their loved ones would think. Stories about introverted, lonely teenagers who limped or spasmed or self-harmed and were still, somehow, enough. Perhaps I could be too?    

I chatted with other fan-fiction writers on Tumblr, one of the earlier social media platforms where users could share content in the form of blogs and private messages. I didn't tell all my online friends the feelings I couldn't share with people in real life. But I told some of them. 

And there was a sense of freedom to my communication even among those I didn't tell. They asked about my day and I asked about theirs. But to them, I wasn't miserable or selfish or boring. At least, I didn't have to be. I could choose to share or not and all they knew of me were the words I wrote and the parts of me I chose to share.

One of my online friends, Shelby, was a huge Harry Potter fan, like me. I came home from school one day, feeling exhausted and inadequate and ready to self-harm. But I checked my inbox first.

There was a message from Shelby: "I wrote a new story about Hermione thanks to our conversations."

She'd dedicated it to me.

She didn't know it, but with that message, she'd changed the course of my day, broken the circuit in my brain, allowing me — for that night, at least — to give myself grace and keep myself safe.

I don't know what I would have done if I'd been banned

Social media gave me safety, even though I know my experience could have been very different.  

I was lucky. I escaped the negative aspects of the online world and immersed myself in the positive ones. I was also lucky because the federal government hadn't yet banned social media for people under 16.

I don't know what I would have done if I'd been banned from those sites as an adolescent. I'd be angry, for sure. And scared. I'd probably have tried to keep using the platforms with which I was familiar.

I have many online friendships to this day, though they look a little different to those of my teenage years.

Instead of Tumblr and fan-fiction websites, the friendships are formed and maintained through Instagram (and, formerly, X).

A steady, reassuring presence

My online friends tend to be other disabled people, particularly those who are also still taking COVID precautions. 

We communicate via direct message (DM) or email and we like each other's posts and stories.

They are a steady, reassuring presence. And when I start to doubt myself again, start to question the validity of my wheelchair, of my work, of my worth — there they are; a reminder that I'm not alone, that we're navigating inaccessibility and ableism together, for ourselves, for each other, and for every disabled person who will come after us.  

I may never have met the online friends of my teenage years — and may never meet the online friends I have now. But they are undoubtedly an integral part of who I am today. 

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