It is too easy to forget the power of the "Send" button. Some lessons are hard to learn. A journal editor was approached online by an author who seemed friendly. After exchanging a few posts, a pleasant camaraderie had developed and emails were flying back and forth. Two weeks into the exchange, she began sharing the details of her life late one night, mindlessly revealing information that she would have never shared if the interaction were face-to-face.

She told us that she clearly remembered feeling as if this author were an old friend, a confidant. In her mind's eye, she pictured an elderly gentleman, enjoying himself as much as she did. She clicked the "Send" button, and before she knew it, her email was bounding through cyberspace.

"Oh no!" she told us. "Adrenaline pumped through my veins, leaving no doubt that I had made a serious mistake. It suddenly occurred to me that this faceless, formless person could be a modern Jack the Ripper! I sat alone at my desk, stunned. Nothing more happened with this man, but I did learn to store my email messages before sending them, and then when ready to send a few, reread the subject lines. That way, I can be sure I want to send them all out. If I am not sure, I transfer them to my inbox, and sleep on them. Then I send them out the next day if I don't want to change anything. I've learned that waiting a day doesn't mean a whole lot in terms of real-life events, but it certainly reduces my anxiety about what I am saying to strangers and what might come back around to haunt me in the future."

She was lucky this time, and she knew it. People apparently hit the "Send" button all too soon, all too often. Lewis, a young neighbor, was not so lucky. He succumbed to the sense of safety one night, sitting in his warm apartment, while sharing intimacies with a new cyber friend. When he realized that he and his new "friend" lived in the same general community, he enthusiastically talked about the café up the street, and the park down around the corner, and eventually revealed his home address.

Within a few days, Lewis was alarmed to discover his cyber friend sitting on his curb, waiting for him after work. She was a woman in her fifties, thirty years older than Lewis. The next Saturday, she was at the park, at the time he had unwittingly informed her he attended a puppy training school with his new pooch. She was stalking him, and he did not know what to do. He eventually called the police department. They were helpful in giving him clear instructions about how to deal with her, and two officers spoke with her as well. Resolution was difficult because Lewis' "stalker" lived in his own neighborhood. Stalkers come in all ages and genders.

Offline meetings can be a positive experience. Not everyone is a stalker. The following section provides some real life testimonials.

*Much gratitude is extended to those who helped clarify, amplify, and edit the material used in this article, Rona Subotnik, MA; Les Posen, Ph.D.; Manny Tau, Ph.D.; Martha Bank, Ph.D.; Rosalie Ackerman, Ph.D.; Thomas Williams, Ph.D.; and Cleo Kiernan.

12/01/01