The Connection Hidden in VRChat's Chaos

After a rough month I decided to reinstall VRChat and convinced some friends to do the same. I had played already, years ago, but didn't really click for me. As an avid VR player with over a thousand hours in SteamVR, mostly in single-player games, I was used to it, but this time felt different.

I'm already aware of the effect of VR on the human brain. During immersion, the subconscious brain struggles to distinguish the virtual world from reality, even if you consciously know the difference. Thus, you begin to form memories as if they were real, with lasting effects on your dreams or even muscular memory.

I may have instinctively tried to grab something from far away with a wrist flick a couple of times, like on Half-Life: Alyx.

This effect is what made being in the same virtual room as my friends so powerful. While we were just watching videos or playing silly games, the distance disappeared. Even without physical feedback, the simple acts of giving headpats or hugs felt real and good.

As someone living in a small town, hundreds of kilometers from my nearest friends, this connection is a huge boost to my mental health. While I spend a lot of time on calls with them, being able to share a "room" with them is something else entirely.

I'm moving to a bigger city with one of my girlfriends in the near future, so I'm not too worried about that. While I wait for that, you'll find me making avatars, exploring worlds or just existing there with my friends.

People hate on VRChat because of the people you encounter inside, and I feel it was the same for me the first time. Every time I've been on a public instance, there's someone screaming into the mic, blasting music or yelling slurs at people.

I think the true magic of VRChat isn't found in public instances, but in private ones. It's there, with your friends, just chilling, throwing items to each other, or taking photos, that you find the human connection everyone needs.