What Digital Fandom Gets Right About Loneliness & Joy
Is anyone alive right now? Yes. And they’re in the chat.
If you were around when that ⤴︎ thread lit up our substack chat, you’ll remember the notifications popping off.
It wasn’t about the question, it was about the pulse. That electric moment when the group chat goes off, inside jokes start bubbling, and people jump in just to say “same”.
Of course it’s silly. But it’s also special.
Because it reminded me that social media hasn’t felt ‘social’ in forever. that we’re starved for rooms that still feel like they’re occupied by humans, not self-serving bots.
I’ve never had a ton of places where I could just ramble about the weird little things that mattered to me and be met with enthusiasm, not judgment. But that thread (and replies) proved something I’ve always believed:
When given a space with a smidge of anonymity and full permission to yap, people will. Gladly.
It’s not that we don’t want to connect anymore. We do. We just need spaces that invite it *without* clout-chasing, branding, algorithms, someone trying to sell us something.
That’s what a fandom space that’s alive does:
It reminds you that you’re not just staring into the abyss alone, there are 50 people at the brink with you.
ℬ𝑜𝑜𝓀 Release Radar🚨
this week’s book rec: Change of Hart by Bailey Hannah has dropped!
A total palate cleanser if your reads have gotten too dark and gut-wrenching lately.
Think:
Small-town cowboy energy
Friends to lovers
Second chance romance
Zero stakes, maximum comfort
It’s the third book in the Wells Ranch series (which I’ve devoured) and a perfect break from the dark romance vibes.
Add it to your TBR → Change of Hart by Bailey Hannah
Now, back to what digital fandom gets right about loneliness and joy…
What Makes a Fandom Space Feel Truly Alive?
Here’s what I’ve noticed, and maybe you’ll relate:
Someone posts a deranged book opinion. People jump in to spiral.
Someone asks for recs. Others sprint to reply with a passion that would make Usain Bolt’s coaches jealous.
Someone shares a fic and a stranger goes, “WAIT WHAT. THIS RUINED ME”
That’s it. That’s the secret. A space where people aren’t afraid to talk, reply, unhinge, ramble. Where no one’s trying to go viral, they’re just trying to be here, now, exist.
There’s no single “moderator”. We all keep the energy going. And that’s what makes it magic.
Conversely, what makes a fandom space feel dead?
🪦Silence.
It breaks my heart when someone posts something and gets nothing back. And I get it. people are busy, lurking, shy. But deadness happens fast in spaces that get too big or too promo-heavy.
Gatekeeping does the same thing. When a space turns into “you have to be a certain kind of reader/fan/person to belong” it shuts people down before they even begin.
My whole goal is to make this feel like an ‘us’ space. Not mine, not yours, OURS. Whether you read fanfic or not. Whether you just got here or have been haunting the chat since day one.
Why We Miss Old-School Internet Community
Maybe I’m wrong, but i don’t think we miss fandoms, there’s plenty of spaces out there for that. I do think we miss people. That feeling of being surrounded by a group that gets it without you needing to explain yourself.
Some of us are introverts, neurodivergent, simply not IRL-community people. That doesn’t mean we don’t crave connection, we just often find it online instead:
In the comment sections. In the fanfic tags. In the chat threads about morally grey romance and existential dread.
That’s the pulse we’re chasing.
Which brings me to online parasociality and its unexpected perks…
When Parasocial Isn’t Bad
We hear a lot about parasocial relationships these days but seem to have forgotten that parasocial isn’t always “fan to creator”, it’s any sort of media relation with a lower engagement from one side. and we forget it might not go one way only.
Personally, I recognize names in the chat, profile pics (and when someone changes theirs, I go “WAIT who are you now??” like it’s a breakup 😭).
that familiarity? It’s so healing.
For context, I’ve been making content every day for 2+ years with zero monetization, and this Substack is the first time I’ve felt like people weren’t just watching, they were with me. For once, I’m not entirely alone on an island (*cough cough* my office).
And the reason for that is because you decided to join. Somewhere along the line, a connection was built through the screen. And I’m so grateful for it.
That’s what I want you to feel, too. The presence, the homeliness.
How To Make Online Spaces Feel Alive (Yes, You)
If you want to be part of a fandom space that feels alive, here’s your checklist:
Comment like your great aunt Susan isn’t watching, because she’s not. We wanna see the fictional characters you’re thirsting after. for… research purposes 👀
Pretend it’s 2012 and you’re obsessed with Supernatural gifs, that’s the level of carelessness that makes a place a vibe
This isn’t IG, your cousin isn’t going to accidentally see the post you made about that questionable fic. drop the rec hun, we wanna spiral too
Don’t wait to be cool. Just be there.
That’s how we stay alive and thriving.
💌 TELL ME THIS
What’s your favorite memory of an online space that felt alive?
A fandom? A tumblr group? A 2015 IG comment section? A chat that kept you up all night?
Leave a comment or drop it in the substack chat. Let’s resurrect the old school joy.
And remember: what happens between the pages, stays between the pages 🤭
𓂃🖋 Rachel
🧷Want more fandom madness? Keep reading:
Why fanfiction is so addictive (and recs to keep your addiction well-fed)