Why we're prioritizing parasocial and online relationships.
Is perfectionism of ourself and others the reason we're prioritizing virtual relationships?
The Feb 25th episode of The Daily was truly one of the saddest things I've ever listened to. Kashmir Hill, who covers technology and privacy, tells the story of a woman whose relationship with a chatbot went much further than that, even becoming sexual.
It's hard not to judge “Irene,” the woman who fell in love with her Chatbot. How could she allow her heart to get attached? Why did she shed tears over him? What made her get so deeply involved that her sexual desire became just as intense as if he were human?
As someone who had a brief social media following, I know firsthand how many lonely people there are out there who are just looking for somebody to connect with, even if it’s not reciprocated. They call this a parasocial relationship: a one-sided relationship with an online personality or fictional character. For me, it was primarily men; divorced, single dads, self-proclaimed introverts, unlucky in love. They would comment on every video as if I had posted it just for them. As if we had a relationship despite them only knowing what I shared online and me knowing nothing about them but a fake moniker and what may or may not have been them in their profile pic. I tried not to make it one-sided. I would respond as much as I could, after all, that’s what you’re encouraged to do as a “content creator.” My responses were polite and short, but when it looked like TikTok was going to be banned in the USA, the question on all of our minds was — do we have a relationship beyond TikTok? The answer for me at least, was no.
But for most, that was okay. Because the truth is, many find comfort in remaining anonymous and at a distance. It’s relaxing to watch someone clean their kitchen, or describe their wins or losses, or put on makeup. For those with avoidant attachment styles, it’s caring about someone on your own terms. For those with social anxiety, it’s a way to relate and feel part of something, without the potential of being rejected. Time Magazine, in their article “In Defense of Parasocial Relationships” reported that “51% of Americans have been in parasocial relationships, though only 16% will admit to it.” That was 2023. I’m sure the number has increased since then.
The concept of having a relationship at a distance is all too familiar in the dating world. I’ve been in many situations with guys who are online dating but aren’t looking for a relationship. I’ve asked a few of them why they don’t go on Feeld instead, once called “The hookup app.” But they aren’t looking for a hookup. They want someone to text. Sometimes it’s a few messages back and forth until it becomes clear there was never any intention to meet up. Other times, it’s a heightened frenzy of texts leading up to the date, only to be disappointed with the reality and absence of romantic feelings in person. One man told me he didn't want a girlfriend but his mom said he should be in a relationship so somebody knows what’s going on in his life. He was 42. He took this advice to heart.
For months he would Facetime me when figuring out what to order for lunch, brushing his teeth, driving, or any other mundane activity. Oddly, I started to look forward to it. For my part, he was undeniably handsome. Our first date, right before he left to teach abroad, although awkward, was respectful and involved intelligent conversation — rare these days. I wasn’t going to cut things off, just because he was in Europe, after all, he’d be home in a few months. Only, upon arriving home after months of daily texts and Facetimes, he didn’t appear to want to meet up. He said although he liked having someone to talk to, it was hard imagining someone in his space. When he finally did agree to hang out in person, gone was the confident, easy-going guy I had gotten to know on the phone and in his place, an anxious, introvert who could barely look me in the eye. I thought that had been first-date nerves, but it turned out to be interacting-with-a-woman-IRL nerves.
Not so long after that, I was once again trying my hand at online dating and randomly matched with a man who lived on the opposite coast. He said it must be fate because he wanted to move back to his hometown, where I lived. We bonded over our health traumas; our desire to create art. Once again, it turned into a sort of long distance relationship. This time, I didn’t get attached, but I started to look forward to the frequent check-ins, the daily hours-long phone calls, his day to day, sharing mine. That is, until his live-in girlfriend who I didn’t know existed texted me and told me he was a narcissist with many more women like me whom he texted. Honestly, I was mostly surprised with how he possibly found the time.
Now, here I am again, talking to a widowed Dad in middle America. I resisted him for months, not interested in dating, or men in general, after years of guys lovebombing me only to decide they didn’t want a relationship “now or maybe ever.” But he kept on messaging, saying he really connected with my material. He’s lonely and can’t find people he relates to in the religious and Republican area where he lives. I loved hearing his stories of being a marine overseas. It was a world I knew nothing about. It felt good making him smile and feel seen. I was clear that I wasn’t interested in dating — there was no potential for a relationship. He has a young son, and moving to his area is not in the cards for me. He agreed to the terms, saying for him there’s no end game. He just really enjoys chatting. Why would I put a stop to receiving a harmless text here and there? A compliment reminding me that I’m worthy of love and affection?
I’d be lying if I said the attention isn’t nice. Even if it is virtual.
Whether it’s finding love online, primarily conversing with friends via group chats, finding community in Reddit forums, or having influencer crushes, we’re all in virtual relationships these days. Our devices are so prevalent in our lives it risks completely replacing human connection. Ironically, Feeld now brands itself as an app for more meaningful connections. And they’re not wrong. Even an in-person sexual encounter with a person with a fake name and no strings attached takes more vulnerability than merely messaging with someone online.
And if we primarily interact with our friends, family and romantic partners online how are we possibly supposed to compete with a bot who says all the right things? A computer-generated image with a perfect body and not a single blemish (unless you’re into that kind of thing — because you can make your bot whatever you want), who never disagrees with us or lets us down?
Is that why even though we’re a lonely broken society craving connection, we can’t find it in person? Because we expect perfection?
Are we becoming a society where we no longer want to risk the hurt, embarrassment, or inconvenience of physical connection?
Is true love actually a thing… or is it the dopamine hits we’re after?
With the existence of romantic bots, will relationships even be necessary for those who don’t want a family?
I don’t know, but I do know, we all have the potential to be “Irene” and as a society, it appears we’re moving in that direction. The solution? we need to prioritize in-person hangouts. I have a wonderful community of friends who I spend far too much time texting. Instead, I’m going to ask my friends to go for lunch or a hike and if they live far, take time to visit. If you have kids, get them off their phones and organize play dates. And for all of us who have given up on finding love, don’t. It’s not easy, it might be hard or far or make us sad, but it’s worth it. But for the love of Mary, don’t try to find it online.
Moreover, I’m going to embrace my friends and family and potential partners’ flaws. Perfection is overrated and conflict resolution builds stronger relationships. A chatbot is trained to agree and be polite and do as you say, but I’ve always heard you’re not true friends until you’ve had a fight. Most good things in life aren’t easy. Whether it’s a goal, or an item, or a job — it’s the fight to get them, earn them and to keep them that gives them value. It’s the same for relationships. There’s no challenge with bots. Where’s the fun in that? Plus, nothing will EVER, replace a good long hug.
Not even an emoji.