My complicated relationship with the web

The web and I have a complicated relationship.

We’re on good terms these days, but that hasn't always been the case.

It all started in the early 2000s.

A couple clicks, a modem sound, and I’d enter a new world.

The web was a playground to be myself. No filters.

I sought human connection in places like mIRC.

Random chat rooms, intriguing usernames.

Day in, day out. It was about people.

But somewhere along the way, the web I knew changed.

Focusing less on community, more on information.

Social media promised to connect us to the world.

Yet, they kept us in our familiar circles.

Made new encounters scarce.

The web turned from a vibrant community to a library, an office, a marketplace.

With the shift, I changed.

Turned hesitant and cautious.

I feared judgment and vulnerability.

Retracted to the professional corners of the web.

I became a spectator in a game I once actively participated in.

I spent years as a passive consumer online.

Scrolling, researching, seeking knowledge.

I consumed information and nonsense.

Took more than I gave.

But I knew had to give back, pitch in, engage, participate.

My first attempts failed.

Various platforms, writing styles, expert advice. Nothing clicked.

Then, it hit me.

I was the problem.

I was still on the sidelines.

Just like the people I was trying to reach.

So I changed, I became more present, active, engaged.

As a result, the engagement I sought started coming.

Not from what I offered first, but what I engaged with.

I felt part of a community again.

The web can be a harsh place, but it's manageable.

The benefits outweigh the drawbacks.

If you're still here with me, and find yourself confined to the margins of the web, know you're not alone.

It is lonely out here, but we can change that.

Today, my relationship with the web feels like reuniting with an old friend.

As I contribute, the magic of the early mIRC days returns, almost as if I can hear the sound of the old modem again.