years<\/em>. I felt electrified by the experience \u2013 literally, I felt like my nervous system was being overloaded with all that social stimuli \u2013 and I’m still (happily) recovering from it.<\/p>\n\n\n\nI’m writing this post partially because of a thoughtful, vulnerable DM I got from one of my mutuals (someone who follows me + I follow them back). He DM’d me to tell me that he was disappointed that he didn’t get to spend some 1-1 time with me. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
We did meet in a group setting, and I enjoyed his company \u2013 and he had joked that it seemed like I only made time for people with large Twitter followings. I don’t remember him saying that, but he DM’d to say that, while it felt true, it probably came from a place of disappointment and insecurity. (Which… is quite a sweet thing to say, and quite flattering to hear.) As our conversation went on, I felt myself more drawn to him, and more in agreement with his assessment that we’d probably have had a great 1-1 conversation.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
I want to think about this.<\/p>\n\n\n\n
It would be accurate to say that I generally prioritized meeting friends who had larger followings. I don’t think I sought out people who were Twitter-famous simply because they were Twitter-famous. I sought out people who I felt compelled to meet, and it seems to me that I feel more compelled to meet people whose thoughts I have interacted with positively \u2013 and the more Twitter-famous someone is on my timeline, the likelier it is that I’d have seen their tweets. <\/p>\n\n\n\n
I definitely did meet a bunch of Twitter mutuals and even non-mutuals who don’t<\/em> have huge followings. I think I particularly prioritized meeting women and minorities, for example, to try and hear from people whose voices I felt were underrepresented. I’m personally fascinated by stories of migration and complicated, hyphenated identities, and have always been eager to hear from outsiders of all kinds.<\/p>\n\n\n\n