As a self-proclaimed anime veteran and longtime fan of Demon Slayer, it was without question that I would watch the latest Demon Slayer movie in theaters. When I arrived at the theatre, I was surrounded by masses of Demon Slayer fans. A group of teenagers were joking around dressed as hashiras (the highest-ranking demon slayers and the mentors of the protagonists in Demon Slayer). My sister pointed out a couple proudly wearing matching Tanjiro shirts near our seats.
When I was in middle school, my sister and I weren’t the best of friends. We loved each other, but with the rise of hormones, school stress, and the pressure to conform, tolerating each other was almost impossible. The only thing we could talk about was anime.
Most people remember when anime was considered “strange” or “weird” by their peers, but my sister and I both loved it. Fairy Tail, Seraph of the End, Assassination Classroom, Erased, Haikyuu!!, The Promised Neverland, you name it. And since no one else understood our fascination with anime, we turned to each other.
Together, we raved about our favorite characters, binged our favorite episodes with a bountiful of snacks, and encouraged each other to draw inspiration from the stories we loved and create our own. The rift between us shrank until it was hardly there at all. My sister was my first friend, so it seems fitting that she was also the first to accept me for loving something socially “strange.”
From indulging in my love of anime, I discovered my love for writing. Dystopian worlds, complex societies, and imperfect characters swirled around my orbit as I continued to watch different series. I wrote my first short story when I was 12, loosely inspired by the world of Ghost in a Shell. Suddenly, I felt like I had talent.
As time passed, my sister began reading, editing, and critiquing my work. Just like any other writer, it didn’t start out pretty. But with practice, determination, and a restored relationship with my sister, I felt that anything I put out was golden.
High school was a new era of self-discovery and obstacles. I felt like I couldn’t open up to my friends about my interests, so I once again turned to my sister. One day, after I finished raving about a new episode of Demon Slayer, my sister asked me: “What if we made an anime server on Discord?”
So we did, and within the first month, we gained almost 80 members. Our Discord server became a place where we could meet new people and talk about what we loved without being judged. We deciphered leaked manga panels and shared our devastation over certain outcomes. (R.I.P. to Shinobu – we love you!) We opened up to each other, ranted about personal problems, celebrated each other’s successes, and supported one another without question. When our “real lives” became too hectic, we turned to the server, and ended up creating a family that has lasted more than five years.
I won’t pretend that we were perfect, or that everyone stuck around. Numbers dwindle with friends, and especially with distance. But every person in that server taught me valuable things about life, opportunities, and myself. When it felt like everyone in my “real life” was against me or that I was doomed, all I had to do was ask to chat with someone or schedule a game night and my problems didn’t seem so overwhelming.
Although we met under circumstances that some may consider bizarre, the people in my Discord server are undoubtedly my family. What can I say? I prefer the unconventional.
But as we all continue to grow up with each other, it amazes me that anime gave me so much. From motivation to believe in myself to giving me a chosen family, I’m so lucky to know these people and experience their wisdom, triumphs, and growth firsthand.
I refuse to say thanks to the “power of friendship,” but at the end of the day, friendship, connection, and community are not “cringe.” In a time when the world feels so cold and lonely, I’m lucky to know people who see and appreciate me for who I am.
Anime is more than we often give it credit for. It provides community even in the unlikeliest of places. Without what is considered an “awkward phase,” I wouldn’t have met my incredible friends. More importantly, I wouldn’t know myself. Through valuing my community, receiving encouragement to challenge myself, and learning the beauty of a fun storyline, my life became significantly more enjoyable.