Welcome to Are You Mad At Me? — a weekly newsletter about anxiety, perfectionism, addiction, self-esteem, living with unanswered texts, recovering from people-pleasing and becoming better friends with ourselves.
I’ll just come right out and say it - there’s nothing that triggers my anxiety more than you not answering my text. Especially if the you I’m referring to is someone I have a crush on, someone I’m trying to impress, someone who is sometimes warm and sometimes not warm and I never know which version I’m going to get, someone who has rejected me, someone who might reject me, or someone I’m worried I’m not on good terms with. Unfortunately for me, that’s a lot of the people I interact with lol and the trigger of the unanswered text is still something I struggle with more than I’d like to admit.
I’m a lot better than I used to be. When I was in high school, I truly would spiral into panic if someone hadn’t answered my good morning text by noon. “What did I say wrong last night? What if they’ve realized they don’t want to be my friend? Are they mad at me? Did I annoy them? Are they not interested in me anymore?” and the ruminating thoughts continued. Of course, I never wondered “Did they lose their phone? Did they drop their phone in water and it’s currently drying out in a bag of rice? Did they leave their phone in the car? or Do they feel so secure in our relationship that they don’t feel like not answering in the span of 20 seconds is necessary?”. Those thoughts never entered my mind.
When I started recovering from codependency and anxiety, I truly would have told you my chief complaint was: cannot tolerate the uncertainty and uneasiness of unanswered text messages. It sounded trite - but somehow it summed up my core wounds and fears all in one read (but no response) receipt: you have decided that I am unloveable. or that i’ve ruined it.
99.9% of the time a text goes unanswered, none of my worst-case scenario thoughts are accurate. They usually haven’t decided they don’t want to go on a 3rd date with me, or they don’t want to be my friend anymore, or that I’ve just been so excessively annoying they can’t tolerate having me in their life anymore. Even as I write that, I hear a little voice in my head saying “of course that’s not what they think, that’s so irrational.” But I have anxiety and anxiety is irrational. And I have patterning left over from childhood that tells me that people’s feelings about me can and will change without warning and it’s my job to figure out why it happened and how to make it go back to how it was before. How do I make it go back to that pseudo-sense of security before I sent a text that you didn’t answer? I heard once that for people who struggle with codependency or anxious attachment, “we’re only as secure as our last interaction with a person” - and when that last interaction is having no annoying ding notifying me that you acknowledge (and adore) my existence, I start to feel not so secure.
I can’t tell you how much work I’ve done around this — learning how to live in the ambiguity of not knowing what you think and feel about me in any particular instant. I’ve practiced tending to the part of me that believes love can go away that quickly and must be continuously checked up on like one sees if the stove’s gas was left on. I’ve grieved for the self-esteem I give away and put directly in the hands of other people and their behavior toward me. I’ve practiced contrary action — not sending that extra text to temperature-check if you’re mad at me or find out why you haven’t answered my text. Because while I maybe get a little short-term sense of relief when you finally do answer and everything is completely fine, I’m actually sending my inner little girl a message that says “see - you NEED other people to feel safe. it’s so good you checked.” It makes me believe that the anxiety and obsession I had about you not liking me actually gives me some control. And the fear of unanswered texts intensifies.
I practice these things all the time - almost every day - as recently as 15 minutes ago. And I’m imperfect at it. I sent a text to someone last night that they didn’t answer. I woke up and turned my phone over…no answer. That familiar pit in my stomach. I sat with my coffee to journal and meditate. In my journaling, I got clear guidance from my higher self to “let them be,” which in civilian terms means “take a deep breath, stop checking your phone and don’t send another text.” I sent another text. I’m not beating up on myself - just telling you the facts — and I actually have a lot of compassion for this part of me: a) because I am human and b) because I spent my most formative years hard-wiring these instincts and they may never fully be erased. I made a joke and texted them something funny. I was trying to elicit a response (and a jovial one at that), and “are you mad at me?” didn’t feel like the right thing to send at 9 in the morning. I didn’t get the humorous, warm response I was hoping for. I got something short, terse and completely unrelated to the text I sent last night that has essentially still gone unanswered.
And so here I am, starting again. Hand on my heart. “Oh sweetheart, it makes so much sense that you sent that second text. What you sent last night was vulnerable and it must have been hard to not have that acknowledged. I believe you. I’m here.” The number one gift of my recovery has been the development of this gentle loving voice — the one that is nicer to me than I am and believes in my goodness more than I am able to.
And then I put my phone down. The answer - the relief - is not in there. I’ve already tried that.
And then the thoughts that I know so well I practically have them memorized started: “ugh why did you send that second text? if they weren’t annoyed before, they definitely are now. they can feel how needy you are and that will repel them even more.”
And so I started again. Hand on heart: “Those are such familiar thoughts my love. You had people around you as a kid who would get annoyed sometimes when you tried to have connection. It makes sense that you feel that way. That may be happening right now, or it may not, but either way - you are safe. I’ve got you.”
I wanted to screenshot the unanswered-text-second-text-cold-response-back exchange and send it to some friends for their analysis and I knew that this was just another form of temperature-checking, of getting reassurance from outside of myself that I am not too much. That I am easy to love and embrace and respond to. I felt that impulse and I didn’t do it. I don’t want to feed the beast.
Sometimes I think the unanswered text is my greatest teacher. It forces me to sit with the discomfort of realizing that we never can know with 100% certainty how someone else feels about us at every given moment — because even if someone answered my text and “everything was fine,” it could change a minute later and then I’d need another text to reassure me once again. It’s a never-ending cycle and I don’t want to feed the beast.
An unanswered text makes me tend to the parts of myself that still feel unloveable or like a burden. Those core beliefs are there whether you answer my text or not, so I might as well work to heal them.
The truth is - I never know why someone doesn’t answer a text or why they just thumbs up something I sent or why they take 23 hours to respond or why they don’t give me the affection I deeply crave. I can come up with stories about why that is, but I don’t ever really know. And that’s the reality of life. I can either lean into it or try endlessly to fight it.
I am safe and good whether you respond to my text. It may not feel like that at this moment, but I am.
I am safe and good.
I am safe and good.
I am safe and good.
But P.S. please answer my text.