Imagine this: It’s a Friday night in 2014. I had finished school for the week, my parents and sister had gone to bed and I had myself at night.
“Don’t stay too late watching TV!” Mom shouted, directing the stairs.
“You won’t worry,” I replied.
As soon as she was out of Earshot, I put Starz TV to watch Jess Glynne’s musical video, listening to a volume loud enough to hear upstairs. I opened my laptop and typed in ‘Omege’. Many people at school had talked about it and I even used it in sleep last year. I knew the basics, but they were waiting for the opportunity to explore them on my own.
The bright white website with blue and orange buttons illuminates my screen, asked me what I would like to do.
Would you like to remain anonymous?
Would you like to use videos or just text conversation?
What categories would you like to enter so that we can match you with someone who will talk to similar interests?
As a teenager, approaching the young adults, who felt extremely attractive, but had a curiosity about sex and stroke, I considered the choices carefully.
We chose “anonymous”, “text conversation” and “dominant” “submissive” d/s “” sexy “and” new “as categories of interest.
The site found me a stranger to talk.
“Asl?” The stranger was typed. We had shared the “new” and “sexy” categories as mutual interests.
“What does this mean;” I asked back.
They left the conversation and I was given a young stranger to talk.
“Asl?” they asked. The mutual interest of this stranger was “submissive”.
I don’t want to make the same mistake twice, I quickly put ASL on my phone. The first result stated the American sign language. I wondered if the stranger asked me if I could use it, but I continued to scroll until I found the definition of urban dictionary:
Age, sex, location.
I guess this was asked about twice in a row.
I returned to the conversation, but the stranger was gone. I had a new stranger to talk.
We shared the interests of “d/s” and “subordinate”. You want to be aware, I first asked this time:
“Asl?”
Responded ’28, m, Ontario, wbu? ‘
’17, f, London ‘I replied, stretching the truth a little.
“My age okay for you?” he asked.
I stopped examining. It was a big gap. But I had encountered gaps before, my first kiss at 14 was with someone who was 18. My first friend was older than me. We often approached the adult men who asked for my number or snapchat.
“Sure,” I replied.
“R u subordinate” he asked.
“I’m a dom” he sent as a separate message.
“Im sub ‘I answered.
After a few more front and rear messages, we changed the snapchat IDs and started chatting there. This pattern has been repeated for about three years. At first, it felt low risk. I exchanged messages with strangers, often much larger than me, but most of these strangers were abroad, so I justified the actions, telling myself that I would never meet them and I was careful about the details I revealed. And most importantly, it made me feel desirable. We would talk about BDSM, get the sexting out and I thought I learned more about myself. But, looking back, I now understand that I was fetishized.
My value was tied to my ability to thank others. And every time I deal with these conversations, I felt more like a tool for someone else’s wishes than a real person.
I didn’t share that this was a habit of me with anyone, until the second year of UNI. I was in a relationship at this point and but still dealing with strangers on the internet occasionally. I had felt guilty and on one night of the week with only me and my roommate, I shared my habit with him. He approached me with kindness and understanding, having dealt with similar behaviors in the past.
I felt some relief in this answer and I am glad I had not been judged. This was the beginning of sharing these experiences with friends and getting love and support that I didn’t expect. A friend gave me a book called “Body Positive Power” and I began to read and learn more about the positive movement of the body. About the shades between the race and the size and the perceptions of beauty.
At the same time, this was the moment when the first Euphoria series came out and Kat Hernandez’s character shook me. Watching her develops an online persona and become a minor sex worker after exploring her own insecurity was overwhelming. I could plan parallels between us and I felt that the world had opened me and I was watching myself reflecting.
Why nobody knew what Kat did?
How did he feel?
Why were there no more online safeguards to stop girls like Kat, like me, than dealing with harmful behaviors?
I had to do some deep reflection, learning and frustration in the years to come. Most of which have been facilitated, from the internet, and the glorious connections you can develop there.
The review of my social media was a powerful start. Removing the applications I connect to my previous wounds was the first step. Changing the type of accounts I followed was the next one. Finding more queer, positive from the body or neutral pages of the body to follow has helped me slowly shift my mindset and take care of myself. I felt so good to see people with bodies like mine talking about themselves with kindness, dressing up amazing and happy.
It was clear to me that the internet could be an incredible resource for young people to find a community and see people who were like them. While there is no doubt that there are advantages and disadvantages of the era of influences we are now, influences and content creators were some of the first people to show me joy. The sharing of personal stories or cosmic vlogs gave me the shift of the perception I had longed for and I am sure I would not get it from the mainstream media.
Looking back, the internet played a huge role in shaping the way I saw myself and how others saw me. He gave me both the sense of belonging and a deep sense of isolation. Omegle and other online chatrooms were some of their first ones when I grew up, so I don’t blame adults in my life so as not to understand the potential these platforms had.
However, it now feels clear to me that if we are going to use the internet as a tool for connection and learning, we must approach it with intent and care.
If you are a parent, teacher or someone who affects young people’s behavior, then please have open, honest conversations on internet security, self -esteem and consent. And if you are young to read this, remember that you deserve to feel precious about who you are, not only what others want from you.
