Don’t tell my children, but I speak to strangers online on a daily basis

It’s a habit that started back when they were mere twinkles in my eye – or two lines on a pregnancy test, to be more precise. A time when an insatiable thirst for knowledge on everything pregnancy and baby related could not be quenched by the magazines I bought by the trolley-load. I needed to know if I was alone in my compulsion to eat anything and everything in my line of vision. I needed to know the nitty-gritty, the gory and the unmentionable And I needed to know why my backside was growing at almost as fast a rate as my stomach.

And now: don’t tell my children, but I speak to strangers online on a daily basis.

It continued after baby was born, when night became day and became night again, and still my babies never slept. Chats with anonymous usernames at 3am meant I felt a little less alone in the constant state of sleep-deprived delirium I found myself in. It was a place to ask seemingly ridiculous questions anonymously about coping with new motherhood and this crazy alternate universe I now inhabited.

It’s a habit that helped me get through the pregnancies from which the innocence had been removed. A place where I could freely obsess over every little twinge and symptom that could suggest another miscarriage was inevitable. A place where strangers willed each other on, reached out and wished each other luck ahead of early scans, knowing only too well the fear that overpowered the anticipation.

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A place were strangers celebrated the wins of others or gently picked up the pieces of broken hearts and shattered dreams. A virtual village of sorts, in a time when the real village was often missing in action.

Unrealistic ideals

But like most things in life, the format has changed over the years. There’s a confidence that comes with experience and a realisation that the ideals a younger me tried to live up to, were often unrealistic and sometimes blatantly false. I grew more comfortable in my parenting skin – except, that is, when it comes to the school cake sale. I still feel compelled to run and drop off with lightning speed the wonky white-iced buns I’ve never managed to deviate from, glancing in awe at the wow-factor masterpieces deemed too spectacular for sale and instead included with the raffle prizes. My only saving grace is that, in this respect, my children accept, without question, my limitations and even attempt to purchase them back.

The need for support hasn't gone, however, nor has the need for adult interaction. "The days are long but the years are short," Gretchen Rubin said, possibly never quite anticipating how often that quote would be waved in the face of an overwhelmed parent.

The days are monotonous, all right, particularly when the village it takes to rear a child is otherwise occupied. Often those all too important meet-ups with other grown-ups take a back seat to the demands of life.

There are few things that can beat the healing powers of the real-life interaction that comes with a chat with friends, but in its absence, online camaraderie and friendships can be hugely comforting. It flies in the face of everything I’ve taught my children about chatting to strangers online, and yet many of my online friendships, struck up on the common ground of parenting battlefields, have become real-life ones.

Winging it

As parents we often seem to have an affinity with each other. An unexplained trust, built perhaps on the knowledge that most of us are just winging it and hoping for the best. But we don’t necessarily want to admit the trivial things that sometimes bother us to those we know in person, and other times it’s just too hard to admit to the overwhelming things.

Social media gets a bad name, and yet I’ve seen it at its best. I’ve witnessed, across platforms and groups I run, virtual strangers reaching out to others in crisis, offering their support and advice, without judgment. I’ve seen strangers celebrate the wins of people they’ve never met and I’ve been reminded myself by others, on days the world appears to have conspired against me, that your best really is good enough.

I’ve been party to secrets about pregnancy news, surprise weddings and even been asked my thoughts on baby names for impending arrivals. And there’s been the sad news, too, shared in trust, because sometimes it just hurts.

The times they are a-changing and so is the make-up of our friendships. There are real people behind the social media handles.

We don’t need to know each other in real life to show kindness.