Whatsapp saved my friendships – and sanity
Can Whatsapp boost your ‘psychological wellbeing’? Yes, says Fiona Cowood – as long as you find your people
I’M CURRENTLY IN A Whatsapp group with 20 other parents (some I know, most I don’t) about an eightyear-old’s birthday party. We’ve been asked to state our child’s sandwich filling preference and so, for the last three days, at all times of the day and night, my phone has buzzed with updates: ‘Jam pls’, ‘Ham please,’ ‘Cheese for Rory,’ etc. The party is in two months’ time.
I’ve been taken hostage by a Whatsapp group and I suspect you have too. Probably several. I say ‘taken hostage’ because I did not go willingly. Someone ambushed me – OK, added me – and unless I leave the group (let’s face it, I’m British, so I’m never going to do that), I’m stuck with the sandwich updates.
But for all my whingeing about Whatsapp, I could never delete it. Ambushes aside, it lets me go about my day with the knowledge that three of my best friends are always with me. We’re in a group chat called Our So-called Lives and, to date, it’s helped the four of us navigate seven miscarriages, seven healthy babies, wedding outfit dilemmas, maternity discrimination, The Hills, piles, a skin cancer scare, face pack recommendations, dreadful in-laws, vintage ebay furniture, postnatal depression, work-related panic attacks and our problematic feelings about Emily Ratajkowski. (We’re still struggling with the feminism-slash-bum-selfies conundrum.)
There was a time when we could pick over all the above in person. Throughout our twenties, we lived five minutes’ walk from each other and could reliably meet in a pub garden within 15 minutes on a random Tuesday night. But then we got boyfriends and babies, and house prices forced us to scatter to the suburbs. They’re now the people I see the least but who probably matter the most. And Whatsapp is the life support machine that’s not only keeping our friendship going, it’s keeping us going too.
Having three sounding boards/ cheerleaders/confidantes with you at all times is like wearing an invisible suit of armour. When I recently flunked a job interview, they threw reassurance at me until I had no choice but to agree that, yes, screw da man! It was their effing loss. We’re actually quite bad at remembering The Official Stuff – like kids’ birthdays – but when a house purchase has fallen through, or a meeting has gone badly, we show up. We bring GIFS, sympathy, practical advice and outfit suggestions.
That’s not to say it’s always straightforward. The thing about having an intimate Whatsapp chat (and ours once covered my constipated friend having to ‘birth’ something that wasn’t a baby, in real time) is that, without warning, it forces you to parachute straight into someone else’s shoes. One minute you’re cutting up a quiche, the next you’re rustling up advice on how to fire someone or discovering that your friend worries about whether she’s bonded with her baby. It can be heavy stuff. It’s why I often suddenly lose focus on the task at hand, and stagger into the other room, engrossed in my phone and not my kids. (Sorry, kids.)
My husband doesn’t really get it. But then a quick scroll through his equivalent group chat reveals a lot of wank jokes and boring back and forth about Spurs. I ask him if anyone ever says anything ‘deep’ on there and he tells me his mate once said he was having a tough time and two people left the group ‘because it would be funny’. I get it, but can’t help thinking he’s missing out.
Social media is often blamed for the fact that 30% of Millennials say they’re always or often lonely*, but this could be a lazy conclusion to draw. Of course meeting IRL is good for the soul, but I agree with researchers at Edge Hill University, who recently found that group chat via Whatsapp leads to
**
‘positive wellbeing outcomes’. For us, it’s a virtual pub table where we can pull up a chair and offload, with the added benefit of not having to wear a bra. Like a real thread, it ties us together, and often stops us from unravelling. I’d highly recommend it.