...I remember a year ago, when I looked at the arts that people from different communities post online, I can’t help but wonder what they feel when they share their OC hugging or interacting with a Content Creator’s model. Honestly, it makes me feel a bit sad and even envious. In my first few months in Sanctuary, I kept thinking, ‘I wish I could feel that comfortable.’ The idea of commissioning art with the Content Creator’s model, Azeru, felt like such a big deal to me - I keep on thinking that I wanted to achieve that level of being comfortable where I wouldn’t think that doing so will make me look like the ultimate ‘fan girl’ (or 'simp', as they call it) - not that there’s something wrong with being one. I understand that people are different, and while others are totally comfortable with this, it makes me feel somewhat ‘undeserving’.

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That’s actually why my OC, Hara, doesn’t have a ‘halo’. She doesn't have one in any art commission. I’ve heard the Content Creator talk about ‘loyalty’ so many times, and it makes me feel like Hara hasn’t earned it because she hasn’t been in the community long enough to deserve something...I don't know. Meaningful? In my mind, ‘halos’ aren’t something you just take and slap into the artwork - it’s something that you earn.

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Being new to the community didn’t help either. I’m new - I don’t know anyone, and I feel like forcing myself into already established ‘circles’ will be awkward and weird. It’s hard to put into words, but no matter what anyone says, there will always be a ‘vibe’ in a place, and you will know whether you fit it or not - it’s not something that’s static, but it ‘shifts’. Some days you will feel welcome and part of something bigger. Other days, it feels like you’re on the outside looking in, and all you want to do is leave and never come back.

 

I know it shouldn’t be as complicated as a stupid Algebra problem. It’s all online, and none of it is technically ‘real’. We’re just supposed to take things as they are.

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Sure.

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I will always admire people who think like this - but again, people’s understanding is based on their level of experience and perception. For me personally? I think time is precious, and I want to spend it building meaningful experiences with people who truly matter - with people who are genuine.

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I don’t think it’s wrong to want genuine connections online. Online communities can make you feel so deeply connected, but at the same time, they can also make you feel incredibly alone. While I’ve found support and understanding within Sanctuary, I've also dealt with the fear of not being good enough, or not measuring up to the expectations of others. The pressure to always say the right thing, to be engaging and likable, is exhausting. But I’ve realized that it’s in those raw, unfiltered moments that real bonds are made. I’ve discovered that there are like-minded individuals who enjoy and value the same things as I do, and we all agree that sharing the highs and lows is what makes a community stronger.

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Months passed and I’ve learned that being part of Sanctuary isn’t just about what I contribute - it’s about what I take from it, too. Sometimes, it’s okay to just exist, to observe, and to let it shape your experience without feeling like you constantly need to participate or prove yourself.

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There’s beauty in allowing yourself to grow into a community instead of rushing to find your place in it. It’s a lesson I’ve had to learn slowly, but it’s one that’s taught me to appreciate the journey of belonging rather than the destination.

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That said, it would be dishonest and unfair not to acknowledge the darker sides of a community like this. For all the good, there are also moments that are just plain shitty.

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Parasocial relationships are bloody tricky. It’s easy to forget that the Content Creator that people admire is just a person. We consume their content, engage with their personas, and feel like we know them intimately. But the truth is, we’re interacting with a ‘version’ of them that they choose to present. I remember telling the Content Creator about this during the first redeem time: 

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This is how I perceive this whole thing

Azeru for me is the ‘content’

You, I don’t really know who you are, you’re like some mediator between Azeru and the ‘Content Creator’

The ‘Content Creator’ for me is person who’s behind all this stuff that we cannot see

So basically for me - there are three ‘yous’
If that makes sense

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This...parasocial thing can lead to some unhealthy attachments, where people expect too much or feel entitled to the Content Creator’s time and energy. I’ve seen this happen in Sanctuary - people crossing boundaries, and when those expectations aren’t met, the admiration turns into frustration or even anger - not towards the Content Creator who’s the object of their affection, but to their close ‘friends’, and sometimes even worse - themselves.
 

For me, the struggle was different. It wasn’t about feeling parasocial toward the Content Creator - I’m too self-aware (to the point of paranoia, maybe) to fall into this trap. In fact, you will not believe the steps I’ve taken to fulfill this sort of, I dunno, ‘preventive coping’ (LOL)? Some might find it ridiculous, but I never self-inserted in audios (or in anything that’s directly related to the Content Creator, such as the webcomics, etc), I specifically instructed artists that Hara shouldn’t have any physical contact with the Content Creator’s model, I never redeemed ‘Spell My Name’ or ‘Kith Kith’ stuff on Twitch (some of my friends wanted me to suffer and redeemed for me though, thanks LMFAO), I opted out of the ‘physical perks’ that are being sent to higher tiered patrons, and at some point (since I see ‘Azeru’ as the ‘product’ or the ‘content’) I feel like calling the Content Creator ‘Azeru’ is rude: I only typed this name 15 times on the server (LMAO).

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No - the biggest issue for me was trying to help others who seemed to be spiraling because of it. Trying to ‘save’ people from that mindset was exhausting, especially when it felt like they didn’t want to be saved. And honestly, there were moments when I felt completely helpless. That helplessness sometimes turned into anger - anger towards the Content Creator, even though I knew it wasn’t really their fault (well, maybe a bit. LOL).

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I knew the anger was misplaced. A part of me understood that these people were adults, capable of making their own choices about how to live their lives, and it's unfair for the Content Creator since they always remind everyone of the pitfalls of being parasocial anyway. Still, I couldn’t shake the need to figure it all out, to understand why things were the way they were. I’ve always believed that understanding is the first step to solving any issue. But it’s difficult - primarily because I’m not one who’ll say comforting words. Yes, words can help. But again, I am limited and can only understand from my level of experience, and I will say that empathy without action is an utter waste of precious time.
 

But in the end, the biggest lesson I learned wasn’t even about empathy or understanding others - it was about learning how to let go. Sometimes, you have to choose yourself, and that’s okay.
 

Then there’s the bullying, which is something I never thought I’d have to deal with at this point in my life. The anonymity of the internet can bring out the best and worst in people. While I wasn't at the receiving end of it, I know people who experienced it - and I feel angry and helpless with my inability to intervene or to ask clarifying questions. Drama is not allowed. Even in a supportive space like Sanctuary, I’ve seen passive-aggressive comments, subtle exclusions, and outright hostility toward people who share unpopular opinions. It’s sad because these moments can make the community feel less like a sanctuary and more like a minefield.
 

For me, this has been one of the hardest parts of being ‘Hara’. There’s this fear of not measuring up - not just to the expectations I’ve placed on myself on wanting to do what I know is right, but to the silent judgment of others. The pressure to always be likable, to never say or do the wrong thing, can be suffocating. And when negativity happens, it’s so easy to take it personally.
 

The truth is, communities like this are messy because people are just...fucking messy. But that doesn’t mean they aren’t worth being part of. For all the struggles, I’ve learned to be more mindful of how I treat others, of the boundaries I set, and of the energy I bring to the table.
 

Now, when I look at the art others post, I don’t feel as sad or envious anymore. Instead, I feel nostalgic. Those creations, and the connections behind them, are reminders of the months I stayed there, and of all the wonderful people that I met, and all the reasons why I joined and stayed in the first place. Like pieces of art, the community is what we make of it.
 

And maybe, just maybe, that’s enough.