The savagery in my group chat has made me the woman I am today

Everyone has a group chat. It’s become a normal mode of communication, an upgraded Dead Poets Society and a burn book all in one. It’s a place for us to vent, to celebrate news, to check our sanity and to keep ourselves distracted from that sketch guy trying to talk to us on our way home.

We release impulsive feelings and deep 2 a.m. thoughts. Without making a single noise aside from our aggressively fast typing, we change each other’s lives, one crazy sex story or embarrassing run-in with an ex-friend at a time.

I wouldn’t be me without my chat. I wouldn’t feel as empowered, as loved or as needed as I do right now.

Imagine your life without your group chat. Who would you go to for the raciest updates?

 

Or the basking in ripping each other a new one for the sake of humor?

Or the dish on this new dude’s anatomy?

 

Or just to get out our weirdest thoughts?

Our group chat pals always have our backs, even if it means doing some investigatory work for you (reverse search on Google photos is the sneakiest way to know if the guy you’re going on a tinder date with is a catfish) or leaving an event to give you last-minute advice on your family drama.

I wouldn’t be nearly as interesting without them, that’s just a fact. Thanks, group chat, for spicing up this girl’s life.