When Your Extroverted Friends Just Don't Get It

I've been poking around a few introversion-related online forums lately, and one question that seems to come up all the time is, "What do I do when the extroverts in my life just don't understand that I need to be alone?"

An introverted man was told by his extroverted wife (whenever she wanted to go out and he didn't), "We don't just get to do what we want all the time." A college introvert found they kept losing friends because their social group got tired of the introvert only going out with them about half the times they asked. An introvert living at home offended his mom when he tried to explain that he needed time alone and went to his room whenever they had company.

This kind of thing happens a lot.

It's starting to change, I think, as introversion has made its way to the forefront and people are starting to realize not everyone needs to be excited to be with people all the time. But this still happens.

So I thought I'd share a few of the things that have helped me make peace with my extroverted friends.

© 2013 Tiago, Flickr | CC-BY | via Wylio

1. Explain to them up front that you're an introvert.

One of the reasons it was easier for me to get out of socializing in college when I was overwhelmed was that I was pretty straightforward with all my friends that I needed time alone. This way, when everyone went out to lunch and then wanted to go bowling or something after, it wasn't a sudden surprise when I said, "No, thanks, I'm just going to head back to my room and chill." Sometimes there's an assumption that if you're friends, you'll do everything together all the time, and letting them know right from the start that I wasn't going to do that meant fewer unmet expectations.

2. Be generous with your time when you can.

Whenever introverts and extroverts are friends, then there's going to have to be some give and take on both sides. The introvert will sometimes feel like they'd rather be alone, and the extrovert will sometimes feel like the introvert is abandoning them. If your extroverted friend is willing to give you alone time, then make sure you show that appreciation by being willing to go out with them sometimes when you don't really feel like it. Not all the time -- don't burn yourself out trying to prove you're a good friend -- but sometimes introverts get weirdly militant and start proclaiming that they're never going to do anything social again if they don't want to. And that's just kind of silly.

3. Stick to your boundaries.

One of the ideas that I've found to be common in extroverts who don't get it is that we're all just shy and want to be coaxed out of our shells, that we all secretly want to hang out all the time. If you say no to your extroverted friends but then give in when they pressure you, you're just reinforcing that. If you decide you're not going out and you really don't want to, stick with that. Of course, if you realize as they talk that you kind of want to go out after all, then you can do that. But if you'd really rather be alone, then don't give in. It may puzzle them for awhile when you genuinely choose to be by yourself instead of with other people, but they'll get used to it eventually.

© 2008 Thai Jasmine (Smile..smile...Smile..), Flickr | CC-BY | via Wylio

4. Enjoy being introverted.

This is connected to the above thought. Most of the extroverts who push me to hang out with them are doing so out of concern for me. (Not all of them, but that's another story.) They genuinely don't think I'm having fun on my own. But I've found that introverts really love being alone -- definitely including me! There's something so beautiful about sitting by myself in absolute silence reading a book, or going to see a movie and being the only one in my row, or taking a solitary walk with just my iPod and good earbuds. That's why I write blogs like this one that talk about how much I really adore being by myself. Sometimes introverts don't talk about these things because they think it'll make them seem weird, and maybe it will, but it'll also help people see that you're not sad and lonely every time you're by yourself... so they won't feel quite as strong a need to combat it.

These are just a few of the things I've tried. What else has worked for you guys? Extroverted friends, do you have any "aha" moments to share? Chime in in the comments, and share if you liked the blog!

A Memory of Spiritual Community

New Life Drama Company made church much harder for me.

While some might assume that this happened because I went to so many different churches and saw so many that were messed up and got fed up with hypocrisy or something, that's not the case at all. Sure, I visited my share of dysfunctional churches, but that wasn't what made it so difficult to go to church when I went back.

It was the opposite, actually.

Being part of NLDC was the first time I felt like I was truly part of a spiritual community. Since I have spent a fair amount of time on this blog muddling through my current church struggle, I wanted to share a little bit about the one time in my life when I suspect I encountered what most other people encounter (or hope to encounter) at church.

There were two aspects to this, I think: the social and the spiritual.

The Social

The "community" part of this, the social aspect, came through in how unusually easy it was for me to connect with these people. There was such a strong sense of welcoming, of loving and accepting even the oddballs among us (and there were many of us).

When I first arrived and started meeting people, it was at first almost off-putting how enthusiastic everyone was to have me there, just because I didn't know what to do with it. These were people I had never met, but they were squealing happily as just the prospect of a new person being in their midst, proclaiming their love for me when I had barely spoken a word to them, and seeking me out to strike up conversations with me. It was overwhelming, but, I decided, in a good way.

As I got to know these people and realized their enthusiasm and eagerness to welcome me into their fold was genuine, it became less overwhelming and more like a huge, enormous support blanket. They got to know me and my personality quirks and didn't try to change them or make me more like them. They celebrated as I relaxed and came out of my shell more, but not because coming out of my shell was The Right, Extroverted Thing To Do -- it was because they liked me and like getting to know me.

I made most of the closest friends of my life here. It was hard not to. It's hard not to fall back on a support system that is so eager to hold you up, and it's hard not to want to provide them with that same support and enthusiasm and love.

This attitude was infectious. I was usually so reserved, but when we got a group of newbies joining the drama company, I found myself eagerly offering that same unconditional friendship that was offered to me when I first got there. I found myself opening up to people so much more quickly than I would in the "real world." While I typically take 2-3 years to build a friendship with anyone, I unequivocally called almost everyone in the group my friend in a matter of months. In this safe environment, building relationships became easy for me. We fed off each other and leaned on each other and cheered each other on.

I have never bonded so quickly with such a large group of people.

The Spiritual

This attitude of acceptance was very heavily in play when it came to our spiritual interactions as well.

NLDC was an interdenominational ministry. In recent years the ministry's become much more overtly targeted toward charismatic denominations, but when I was there as a quasi-Baptist (I don't know what to call myself, denominationally, I just know I don't speak in tongues) I never felt pressure to conform to any specific worship or prayer style. Everyone was encouraged to follow wherever God led them, no matter whether that meant jumping and dancing in the worship service or sitting quietly and just listening.

It was the safest spiritual place I'd ever been in my life.

While most of the time we were out traveling on the road, every ten weeks we'd come back into our homebase in Tennessee and switch up teams. Then we'd spend the week in Tennessee writing and learning new skits with our new teams.

Every morning during homebase week we'd start off the day with a half hour or so of corporate praise and worship after breakfast, and these are moments I remember vividly. We'd stand in a circle in the church building where we met. One person would be in charge of choosing the worship songs, another of leading us in prayer.

The worship format changed frequently, depending on who was leading. Some days someone played acoustic guitar, other days we played a worship CD and sang along. Some days we sang old church camp songs and 90s praise choruses, or hymns, or whatever Hillsong's latest songs were, or songs written by some of us. We sang and clapped and danced and closed our eyes and raised our hands and laughed and cried and prayed through the songs.

If I was unfocused that day, it could be chaotic with everyone doing whatever they wanted to do around me, but at the same time I felt such a sense of freedom to do whatever I wanted to do, because everybody was focusing on themselves and nobody was paying attention to me. If I wanted, I could stand with eyes closed and arms raised, not singing, just listening. I could sit down. I could sway back and forth. I could jump up and down. I could intersperse my own thoughts during the songs out loud, personalizing them so they could truly reflect what I wanted to say instead of what the songwriters wanted to say.

Prayer time changed structure as well, depending on the leadership. Frequently the prayer leader would briefly introduce the prayer "theme" for the day, if there was one -- "Today we're praying for our country," "Today I feel God wants us to pray for the church," "Today we're asking God to teach us something" -- and then everybody would pray, just all at the same time. There was a quiet, general murmur as people were earnestly talking to God, praying through memorized Scripture or asking for blessings or interceding on other's behalf.

Every minute or two, someone would feel something to pray publicly, and they'd speak out their prayer, loudly, with everyone listening and verbally agreeing. I didn't pray out loud often, but when I did, it felt unbelievably encouraging to ask God for something and have 25 or 30 other people all nodding their heads and saying, "Yes, God! Amen!" It really solidified that we weren't isolating ourselves and pleading our case before God all on our house -- we were all there, together praying for the same things and trusting that God would see all of our faces and hear all of our "Yes, God!"s and would answer our prayers.

When prayer time wound down, there was a third component that often came into play: relating to others anything we'd heard from God. It wasn't uncommon at all for us to finish worship and have someone say, "I feel like God wanted to encourage me today," either to the whole group or to just a few of us.

Sometimes God would put a message on their heart to relay to somebody else. There were quite a few times when I came away unenlightened by my worship experience, only to have someone approach me and say, "I just wanted to let you know God put you on my heart during prayer time, and he wanted me to tell you he knows you're stressed and it's OK, he'll take care of whatever it is." And a good chunk of the time, it was exactly what I needed to hear.

It wasn't always perfect. Sometimes I was distracted or unfocused or stressed or just didn't hear anything from God during my worship times. But that was OK. Because the community nature of the whole thing was what mattered most. It mattered that I was there, joining in prayer and agreement with my fellow Christians, standing before God and asking him to bless and forgive and teach and change us, and even if he didn't speak to me that day, hopefully he spoke to somebody else and I had been a part of that.

...And Now There's Nothing Else Like It

I truly do feel like my experience in NLDC was probably one of the closest things to heaven I'll ever experience while I'm alive. Not everybody I knew from that time had that same experience, but for me, that sense of big-group community, camaraderie, and uninhibited love and support is something I've never felt anywhere else. Not in a church, not at school, not in the online communities I love. There was something special going on there.

Sometimes I feel almost a little bit cheated, like God said, "Here, this is what fellowship looks like! Now you'll never get that again."

Because it doesn't happen that easily anywhere else.

When I first came home from NLDC, I tried to make it happen. I tried to make connections and reach out to people and form friendships like never before, but I hadn't realized how much I'd been leaning on the reciprocal love, support, and enthusiasm of those around me. What had been a mutual cycle of fellowship in the drama company became, at home, me emptying myself out into everyone and getting nothing back. Not because the people around me were cold or distant or anything, but because in the real world it takes a lot more time and effort to build friendships. So I jumped in with both feet, used up all my energy, had nothing left, and burned out very quickly.

Sometimes I feel like I still haven't quite regained my balance.

Now What?

I know you can't go through life trying to constantly recapture the emotional highs of your spiritual life. It doesn't work that way. A lot of spiritual living is about slogging through the everyday muck of work and bills and doctor's appointments and, sometimes, going to church.

And yet, I don't feel like this is an impossible, unsustainable type of spiritual community to be seeking. I see glimpses of it all the time, especially when I do get a chance to spend time with the friends I made at NLDC. That strong bond we built during that time is still there, and time apart doesn't ever seem to shake it. Spending time in prayer or worship with these people is still a powerful and freeing experience.

I hate the idea of settling into anything less than that. But at the same time I don't have the energy I need to be able to ignite that kind of spark in anyone. Part of what made NLDC work like it did was that the dynamic was somehow ingrained across the board, with just about everyone sharing that common goal.

Once you've seen a glimpse of something that is so much more than you ever thought it could be, it's hard to accept that you may never find it again on that scale.

So for now, I attempt to do this with individuals, with the strength I have. I attempt to pour encouragement and love into the people around me, though I don't always do it well enough or often enough or for as many people as I'd like. But if I can't build an entire community on the shoulders of my experiences, I can at least be a good friend to a few individuals.

Thoughts? Responses? Have you found a strong spiritual community? What was it about it that made it special for you?

How to Stop Competing With Others

One of the things that interrupts my happiness most often is the sense of being in competition with somebody else. People I haven't spoken to in years will drop me a line on Facebook in a chatty, friendly way, and I suddenly find myself desperately trying to prove that my life is as good as theirs or, if possible, better. Even after we're done talking, I will find myself thinking very defensively about my life choices, as if I'm trying to prove their worth to myself.

I'm sure it's connected to teenage insecurity. It happens most often with people from my high school years, which was... a weird time for me. That was when I was desperately trying (and miserably failing) to fit in with my peers. I was homeschooled and while I feel like it was ultimately a very good thing for me, it certainly didn't help me fit in with the people around me as a teen. I simply hadn't had a lot of experience socializing with people I didn't "get." And I didn't get the people around me. I didn't feel like we had much, if anything, in common. My passion for everything artsy and disinterest in almost everything else did me no favors in connecting with my peers, and trying to drum up an interest in shopping trips, concerts, and sleepovers just made me feel more disconnected than ever. My extreme introversion didn't help either. The sense got stronger and stronger: "I am not normal." I stopped speaking up in groups or even really with friends, hoping that if I didn't say anything, I could at least pretend to be normal.

My year in the New Life Drama Company did a lot to change that. There was a joke that everybody who joined the drama company was a little weird, and the normal ones didn't last very long. They were quick to embrace newcomers, make them feel welcome, and celebrate their oddness. I loved the unique and interesting people I traveled with and met through this group, especially those with bizarre social habits, frequently awkward questions, and unconventional opinions. I no longer felt like the odd one out. Instead, we were somehow all the odd one out together.

Following my year there, I began to really learn a lot about myself - what made me happy, what made me sad, what I wanted to do with my life. I learned that introversion did not equal brokenness, I learned how to really voice my opinions instead of just agreeing with people around me, I learned that my relationship with God frequently centered around artistic input and output.

I look at where I am now and where I was then, and I am truly delighted with my life.

...Yet somehow these people make me feel like I'm still a confused, timid, awkward teenager.

Me as an awkward teenager!
(Although now it looks like I'm saying I feel like I'm competing with the girl in this picture.
I'm not. We don't keep in touch much but I read her FB updates
and she has a lovely family and I couldn't be happier for her.)

The question is, how do I deal with that?

The answer is... I don't know for sure yet. So the title of this blog may have been a lie. But here are some things I'm trying.

1. Remind myself what I love in my life.

This is something I try to do on a fairly regular basis anyway, but it is really important any time I feel competitively threatened by someone else. Because, really, I do love my life. I love the people I know, I enjoy the freelance job I have (though hopefully someday I'll get to teach), the experiences I've had, and the person I've become. I feel incredibly lucky to have done the things I've gotten to do and to be friends with the people I've befriended.

Sometimes it's easy to lose sight of that when I fall into the trap of comparing my life to someone else's. But, honestly, I wouldn't have my life look like anyone else's.

If I'm feeling insecure about whether my life "measures up" to some invisible standard only in my head, it's always a good idea to review all the things in my life that make me happy. Once I start thinking of all that, I realize how much I'd rather have these things that make me happy than anybody else's list of things that make them happy.

2. Affirm their loves and life choices.

Sometimes I have a tendency to overcompensate in order to make myself feel better. If I'm suddenly feeling insecure about my non-domesticity, for example (I hate cooking and I'm not very good at it), it's easy for me to, in my insecurity, turn that around on the people around me who are domestic and somehow look down on them, like being good at cooking and sewing and crafts makes them less... something than I am. Which is ridiculous, because 1) being good at things is good, and 2) mocking them for that makes me a terrible person. And it doesn't even really make me feel better about myself.

The more I affirm the decisions others have made and the hobbies they have picked up that make them happy (while acknowledging that I have chosen something else that makes me happier), the easier it is for me to view our individual life choices as "YAY, we're both doing something we love!" instead of viewing one as "the right one" and one as "the wrong one."

Affirming life choices like when they get MARRIED and I get to BE THERE for it :-)

3. Focus on now, not the past.

Sometimes focusing on the past is awesome... but sometimes it means I end up accidentally projecting my past negativity about myself onto them. When I talk to somebody whose most frequent interactions with me were during a time when I felt terrible about who I was, it's not uncommon for all those feelings to come flooding back every time I talk to them. While part of me knows that that's genuinely not how I feel about myself now, I still feel like that every time I talk to them, and it just gets confusing.

My newest tactic is to try to acknowledge and then put aside the associations I have built up in my mind between my relationship with them (and myself) then and my relationship with them (and myself) now. They are different people than they were then, as am I, so it makes sense to try to think of my relationship with them in a new light. Holding onto old, negative feelings that were never my friend's fault to begin with just makes things murky and keeps me from being able to move on the way I want to.

These are a few of the ways I'm trying to reframe my thinking, moving away from some sort of competition-based mold and toward just doing what I know will be the best in my life. What are your thoughts? Do you frequently feel like you are in competition with others? How do you push past that?

Like vs. Respect

A while back, I was asked if I liked a certain person I don't know very well. I thought about it, and responded, "I like them, but I don't respect them." For me, there is a definite difference.

It is much harder for someone to earn my respect than my like. I like just about everybody, but I definitely don't respect everybody. My respect is reserved for people who I feel are above me in terms of their character or their accomplishments. Liking people is about enjoying their company, respecting someone is about wanting to be like them. The two don't go hand in hand. I like some people I don't respect, and I respect some I don't particularly like.

(Quick disclaimer: This is not referring to the basic respect I should give people on the basis that they are human, or treating people with dignity and respect as a general rule. That's not what I mean. This is the kind of situation where I would think of someone and say, "I have a lot of respect for them.")

What makes me respect someone? These are a few qualities that will always earn my respect:

• The willingness to admit when you are wrong. This is a biggie for me, and I respect it in others even more because I have trouble with this myself. Someone who can admit when they're wrong (and, further, someone who's even willing to consider they might be wrong even if they're not sure), is someone I have a lot of respect for.
• Thoughtfulness. Going out of your way to make others feel welcome, safe, and loved is a huge plus.
• Genuine listening. If I can have a conversation with someone and feel like they are actually listening to me and trying to understand me, it doesn't matter if we agree or disagree at the end, I will respect them.
• A willingness to think well of others. This doesn't mean being stupid or oblivious if someone's being a genuinely awful person, but I have great respect for people who think well of the people around them until proven otherwise. (It was one of the things that first drew me to my fiance.)

Really, these all connect for me. I think, really, most of them have a common thread: humility. A person who is humble can admit when they are wrong, and graciously puts others ahead of themselves, and considers other people's thoughts and opinions as important as their own, and doesn't jump to assumptions that others are bad people.

Those are the people I emulate. They are the people I try to learn from. They are the people I respect. I can only hope that some day I will be able to be like them.

What qualities make you respect people the most?

An Introvert's Guide to Making Friends

I didn't really have friends in high school. It's taken me a little while to realize I even have friends now. I had someone tell me once that among our group she considered me one of the popular ones, because everyone liked me and what I did influenced people. That came as a complete shock to me, because I still think of myself sometimes as being the person everyone tolerates but nobody really likes. I still think there aren't any situations where I could be called popular (other than many that particular one), but at some point I went from having no friends to having a bunch of friends. They may be scattered all over the country, but there are many of them, and I'm very grateful for them.

Making friends for an introvert is not always an easy process. Heck, meeting people isn't always an easy process. Here are a few of the tips I've picked up along the way that worked for me, along with a few lovely pictures illustrating me doing these things. Because I hear using pictures in your blog is a good thing, and since I have zero camera skills, the only pictures I have are of me hanging out with friends anyway, so they make for good visual aids.

Anyway. On to the list.

1. Pursue something you love in a place where there are other people doing the same thing.

Probably 90% of my close friends are people I met while we were doing something we both loved, like participating in a young writer's group, watching movies, or doing theater. Meeting someone like this gives you an instant common bond, for one thing. For another, although sometimes it's hard to get introverts to talk, usually they just need the right subject. Once we start discussing something we really care about, it's getting us to shut up that's the problem. Even an introvert like me can get into great discussions with complete strangers when it's centered around something we both really love.

I'm not close friends with all these people -
goodness, that would be a lot of close friends -
but I like them all, and I enjoy whenever I get to spend time with them.

I hardly ever go into these situations looking to meet someone. It's usually more like, "I want to participate in National Novel Writing Month. Hey, this other person is too! We can probably talk about our novels together." But even if I never meet friends doing that (and often I don't), the process should still be rewarding. You don't want to feel you've wasted your time if no friendships develop. (Besides, taking up a class or activity you don't really care about in an attempt to meet people means you don't really have a common bond with anyone there, and that's not helpful to you if you struggle with finding common ground in the first place.)

2. Be prepared for some uncomfortable socialization at first.

Even if you've found an activity to enjoy and people to do it with, the step from that to friendship often involves awkward group interactions first. It doesn't have to always, but be ready for it. You can always pursue hobbies around other people and then leave them and go your own way, and if you do that consistently, don't be surprised when nobody reaches out to you.

The first show I did in college was with a group of people who had all started the theater program around the same time as me. I could have just done the show with them and then gone straight back to my dorm from rehearsal. We would have been on good terms but it would have only ever been acquaintance terms. Instead, I tried to take them up on offers to hang out. It became a regular thing that we would go to rehearsal and then go out to dinner afterwards. Many times in those early days I had nothing really to say to anybody, and I felt awkward, and I would much rather have been home by myself. Several times I did bow out. But I hung out with them enough to send the clear message, "Yes, I am interested in being friends with you. Yes, I would like to spend time with you."

It's very tempting for me to skip out on group get-togethers
where virtually the only purpose is to hang out with people...
but if I hadn't gone to them, I never would have gotten to know these people,
some of whom are my very favorites.

This step isn't always necessary. Sometimes you can jump straight into interaction you're comfortable with. But sometimes you just have to agree to go to the office party or join everyone for coffee after yoga because immediately saying, "We're in the same class. We probably like the same stuff. We should hang out all the time now!" creeps people out.

3. Seek out one-on-one time with people whose company you enjoy.

You've found a common interest, you've probably done some hang out time... now comes the part where introverts can really thrive as long as they're not shy about asking. If you've enjoyed a co-worker's political debate or think you have the same sense of humor as a classmate, invite them to hang out together one-on-one.

Sometimes people see asking for one-on-one as creepy, which is unfortunate. There are a couple ways to make it a little better, although some will still be creeped out no matter what.

First, you can center it around an activity you already know you both enjoy ("The mall is having a used book sale on Wednesday. I'm going - you should join me!"). This can be a little less off-putting to people than asking them to sit down and have a direct one-on-one conversation with you. I have definitely done this.

If you both happen to love the same Broadway stars,
you can go see them in a touring cast together. I've done that too.

Secondly, you can just be super duper honest. I have done this as well. It usually goes something like, "Hey, I think you're a really cool person and I've enjoyed the couple times we've talked. I'd love to talk to you some more. Would you like to grab lunch on Friday? I'm trying to get out and meet some new people but I get awkward in big groups (slightly self-deprecating laugh goes here)." People usually sympathize with the attempt to get out there, they're flattered that you selected them, and now the cards are out on the table. If they're uncomfortable with your introversion, they're probably not people you'd want as friends anyway.

Also, if you have a topic in mind, that makes it easier. One of my earliest memories of spending time with my fiancé is when we had a platonic dinner date to talk about worship, as he wanted to be a worship leader and I had some personal issues with worship. He struck me as a reasonable and sympathetic person (as he indeed turned out to be) and I wanted to know what he'd have to say. It was a great conversation that turned into a great friendship that turned into a great relationship.

Me and some my very favs hanging out together at another fav's wedding.
Group gatherings are not quite so scary when you're at least friendly
with most of the people there. It gets better. :-)

The process of making friends is still difficult for me. I still have to push myself to do actively social things. And obviously, you're not automatically friends with people once you hang out with people one-on-one. However, once I get past the initial hump of "how do I even MEET people?" I find that the rest is much easier to figure out.

How about you guys? What tips would you give introverts looking to meet people or build friendships? I covered just the tip of the iceberg here - share your own thoughts in the comments!

Written vs. Face-to-Face Communication

Last week while I was on a plane, I saw an ad in the SkyMall magazine for some dating service which matched people up online, but met with all members individually first to get a sense of their personality when helping them create their profile. They then went on to talk about how you can't actually get a good sense of who somebody is and build a relationship via written communication, and it's not until you see them in real life that you can realize who they are.

Um.

Yeah, I don't buy that.

That makes the assumption that we are always more ourselves in face-to-face interactions than in written ones, and, for me at least, that is ABSOLUTELY not true. People who regularly read my blog probably know me better than people who regularly interact with me on a casual level. There have been times when people I have known for YEARS in real life suddenly find out a major facet of my personality and had no idea.

I'm not *hiding* my true personality in face-to-face situations so much as I just refuse to fight for the spotlight. If I'm in a social group of people who all have things to say, I will generally just let them all speak and I will say nothing, even if I have something to contribute, because I don't want to *demand* their attention.

When I communicate in writing, I don't feel like I have to force myself into a conversation. I don't have to be the loudest one at the table to make myself heard. I can just say what I want to say and move on.

When I communicate in writing, I can think about what I want to say. I can find the words to say *exactly* what I mean, without having to verbally bactkrack and say, "No, that's not what I meant."

When I communicate in writing, I'm not spending so much time trying to watch the other person and figure out if they're bored by what I'm saying or not.

When I communicate in writing, I am more open, more friendly, more willing to share who I actually am.

There's a reason every single close friend from high school is someone I met online. Although I have bridged the gap a bit in the years since high school, I still make very strong, very personal ties to online friends. And *nobody* is allowed to tell me those aren't real friendships. The best is when I meet up with those friends for the first time in real life and I click with them instantly - but not because I'm "finally getting to see who they are." We both know each other already. It's just adding another level to the friendship.

Some of the stigma of online friendships and relationships is already fading, and I'm delighted. Even if most of the people I meet in real life don't HAVE online-only friends, they know someone who does, and it's not as much of a "What kind of socially incompetent basement-dwelling monster are you?" look anymore.