If you're one of my friends, you know I am someone who rarely answers messages. I'm the friend who leaves chats unopened, responding days - sometimes weeks - later (of course with an apology for my inability to keep a conversation going, and how I promise to do better in future - we both know this won't happen). My family members have unfortunately learnt this the hard way too; here's to you, grandparents; I will respond to you the second I'm finished writing this article.
But why doesn't she answer? You may be asking...
It's a mixture of things. A classic move is the Snapchat 'half swipe,' in which I view the message, mentally respond, but just... forget to actually answer it. It's as though my brain has decided the job has been done, even though I haven't touched the keyboard - if only I was telepathic.
Then there's the effort factor; and I'm aware this sounds awful. As much as I love those involved, even the smallest text sometimes feels like it takes energy I just don't have. That little red notification bubble becomes a source of dread, rather than curiosity.
And what happens when you leave a message unanswered for a little too long? The anxiety builds. I start worrying that it’s been way too long to respond, which then makes me even less likely to answer. So, I ignore it altogether and hope the issue will just disappear. Spoiler alert: it doesn’t.
The tone of the message also makes a difference. Is it professional, friendly or family related? Each requires a different response style, which means even more time spent constructing the perfect reply. It's a lot of pressure when you're an over-thinker and care far too much about how you're perceived...that tiny task suddenly feels insurmountable.
I know I'm not the only one my age who does this. It's something I frequently experience with my friends, and—ironically—I feel the most frustration when they do it to me. Somehow, I can do it to them and expect them to understand, but they can never do it to me. Hypocritical? Yes. Relatable? Absolutely.
It's also a huge source of anxiety for me. Do people hate me for it? Do they think I hate them? Do they think I just don’t want to talk to them? Sometimes the anxiety gets so bad that the simplest answer is to just… not text at all. Which, of course, only makes things worse.
The truth is, a lot of my friends are used to it by now. They’ve accepted that my reply speed is sporadic at best, non-existent at worst. My poor mother sends me full paragraphs only to be met with a thumbs-up (and that’s if she’s lucky). They are the most understanding people, and I am blessed. But it makes me worry about messaging new people—will they understand? Or will they just think I’m rude or uninterested?
"It's a lot of pressure when you're an over-thinker and care far too much about how you're perceived...that tiny task suddenly feels insurmountable."
These days, I find myself preferring phone calls to texts. I’ll gladly pick up the phone and chat for half an hour rather than reply to a simple message over text. Talking on the phone is immediate, less prone to misinterpretation, and easier to handle. There’s no lingering guilt, no pressure to craft the perfect response.
But of course, calling isn’t always an option. And the cycle of anxiety and ignored messages continues.
So, what’s the solution? Well, the first step is to make sure the people you’re ignoring (inadvertently, of course) know that it’s your issue and not theirs. Make it clear that it’s not about them. Also, whenever possible, try to talk in person or over the phone. And most importantly, cut yourself some slack. Social media has made it both easier and harder than ever to stay connected. We’ve never been more reachable, but that also means we’re more overwhelmed than ever.
Maybe one day, I’ll get better at responding to messages. But until then, consider this my formal apology to everyone I’ve unintentionally ghosted.