You’re Not Too Busy to Text Back; I’m Just Not That Important
Entirely aware that being present in relationships with people is incredibly important, including family, friends, neighbors, and whoever else we deem important in this life, I believe that being present with people is the easiest thing to strengthen relationships while also being the most difficult. Difficult because the effort has to be made. The time needs to be found. Both parties need to be willing to accept that time as acceptable.
Here’s a familiar scenario: You realize because of obligations, priorities, and self-created setbacks, you haven’t seen a loved one in awhile. You love this person dearly, but because life does what it does and takes you both in different directions, it’s difficult to find the time for each other. Oh, but look! An opportunity is present! The loved one is in town and you make the effort to reconnect.
“Hey! You’re home! Let’s find time this week to meet up.”
Then, silence.
But then it happens with someone else. Again and again. Over and over. People don’t return phone calls — whoops, sorry, almost forgot what century this is for a moment — People don’t return text messages, a method of communication that is so simple to utilize in an instant that there is absolutely no excuse for them not to be returned. An ability to communicate with another instantaneously, something our ancestors would have killed to possess as they ready a hand written letter crafted with a feather pen to be sent via Pony Express.
In such a connected world today, there really is no excuse. Even during the time of pagers, the excuse “there wasn’t a payphone around to get back to you” could have worked because now, our communication device is only a reach away. It’s in our pocket, our purses, gym bags, hell — we wear it as an accessory. Today, it’s a part of us. Not returning a call or text message lacks any excuse because at this point, the only one left would be “I was busy.”
Sure, I can believe that. Maybe you were at the movies or a party. Maybe you were working or in a “no phone zone” like the library. Fine.
But after, usually right after… what do you do? You check your phone. You saw my message. You heard my voicemail.
You chose not to respond.
There is no excuse at this point other than “I didn’t want to talk to you right now.” That’s the brutal truth that nobody wants to admit. Nobody wants to tell another person, “I didn’t want to talk to you.” “I didn’t want to make the time for you. Whatever I’m doing is worth more than writing two sentences to you in less than sixty seconds of my day, just to say hello.” Yeah, it’s mean and it’s hurtful, but what people don’t understand is that silence sends this very message.
But my text said: “Let’s find time this week to meet up.” I’m displaying that I want to make an effort to see you.
Uh oh. I took it a step further. I’m asking someone not only to take less than sixty seconds away to reply to a message, but make the decision of whether or not they can take the time to actually make eye-contact and communicate in person. In real life. This request is to see the individual in the most vulnerable and truest form; in the flesh, and all of the beauties and flaws are right before me.
The problem in texting as communication is not the communication itself, but how it seemingly exposes how people see and feel about you. Was this behavior always prevalent? When people didn’t answer the phone back in the 80s and 90s only to have the answering machine pick it up, they had the ability to see who was calling them, so it can be argued people screened their calls back then too. When the Caller ID hit the mainstream in the mid 90s, it was taken a step further:
“Who’s calling?”
“Uncle Mike.”
“Let the machine pick it up. We’ll call him later.”
Seemingly, it isn’t the technology’s fault, but the people that use it. Here’s a question: how important do you have to be to someone for someone to pick up the phone right away? You may think, “it’s not about how important the person is — I could be really busy at the moment.”
Understandable, but let’s compare Uncle Mike’s phone call to say, a job opportunity. The Caller ID displays “Dream Job Company” on the screen. You’re busy. Do you pick up?
Of course, because in that instant, whether you were busy or not, that phone call was more important than whatever Uncle Mike had to say. And why? Because the phone call: HAS SOMETHING VALUABLE TO OFFER
Is it safe to say when we dismiss text messages or phone calls, it is because deep down, at the moment they’re sent, that person has nothing to offer us more important than whatever we’re doing at the present moment, even if that includes surfing Facebook or binge watching Netflix. Does that say something about us? Or does it say something about them?
Your uncle, mom, brother, or friend; whoever may have the intention of truly wanting to reconnect is dismissed because you feel that his reaching out to you is some type of hindrance. If in that moment you were watching Netflix for example, and a love interest that you recently met texts you. Your Uncle sends a text at 4:23pm and the love interest sends a text at 4:24pm. Who receives the reply first? Does the Uncle even receive a reply at all? Sometimes, believe it or not, he won’t.
How could someone that attempts to reconnect with you not receive a response at all? Some excuses I’ve heard:
- I’ve been busy
- I’m working too much
- I’ve been out and about
- It’s been hectic.
- I didn’t get your text / call
All typical excuses, but that last one is delicious. It’s so delicious in fact that it fills me up with some sort of strange satisfaction to see how much people resort to lying to get out of something.
The problem with the last one is that technology does a wonderful thing nowadays and tells us when a text message is read: It’s called the “Read Receipt.”
You know what this is… when someone sees your message, it will say not only that it was seen, but the exact time someone opened the message to read it:
Twenty-four hours in a day. That’s 1,440 minutes per day. Let’s say you slept the healthy eight hour night. That leaves you with 960 minutes in a day. You have time off for the summer, so you’re not working. I text: “Let’s find time to hang out this week.” You read my text, but no response, and then I see that you are actively using Facebook, Instagram, and Snapchat. You took the time to utilize those from your phone, but couldn’t respond to a text message.
Why? I’m trying, here. I’m making an effort. Answer me. Please.
And then, depression kicks in full throttle, and I give myself the more than likely fictional reason why you’re not responding:
It’s not that you’re too busy; it’s that I’m not that important
Now I say it’s a fictional reason because isn’t that what it is? I don’t truly know the real reason why someone isn’t returning my texts or calls. So, when this happens and we don’t know, we need to fill in the gap. We need a reason — so we tell ourselves reasons. Probably the worst thing to do because…
Then other people don’t respond and it sinks deeper and deeper. I throw out more reasons for why people don’t text or call back.
People don’t care about me.
Oh, that’s a doozy. The downward spiral begins…
People don’t want to talk to me.
Who am I? Why would anyone want to hang out with me anyway?
Who am I kidding?
My own family doesn’t want to be around me.
Friends that I thought were friends don’t care.
What’s wrong with me?
No, no… wait. Stop.
I shouldn’t be feeling so down about this. Maybe they’re busy.
Maybe it’s just hectic right now.
Maybe they’re just out and about and will get back to me later.
Hell, maybe they really didn’t get my text. It’s possible, right?
And then out of nowhere, it hits me: I’m guilty of this too.
I’ve went days without writing texts back to family and friends. Weeks without returning phone calls to the very people I’m wanting to reply back to me.
How can I sit here and write reasons why people don’t text or call back when I’m guilty of it myself? My cell phone is always by my side. Always near me. Always wearing it. I saw their text after the movies. I received their loving voicemail, inviting me to visit them that one time a month ago and I didn’t respond. I didn’t visit.
It’s not that these people aren’t important to me. They’re extremely important to me. Yes, I chose not to respond, but I want to talk to them. How does that make any sense? They have something to offer! Their love! Their attention! An interest in my life! It’s just… I don’t know.
What the hell is my excuse?
And then, a text appears:
“Hey! Sorry I didn’t message you earlier! Miss you!”
A moment of relief. The worry dissipates. All is fine!
We are on the same page!
A deep breath:
“No worries. I miss you too. Wanna hang out tomorrow?”
Message Read Fri 7:02pm
