When Silence Is the Most Honest Answer

He called.

And I didn’t pick up.

Not because I was angry.

Not because I was trying to play games.

But because I was tired.

Tired of inconsistency.

Tired of surprise text messages pretending to be connection.

Tired of being expected to respond to someone who only remembers I exist when it’s convenient for them.

And maybe more than anything, I was tired of explaining to myself why I kept answering in the first place.

This person’s pattern has always been the same: disappear, reappear, say just enough to stir something in me, then vanish again. They never been consistent. They never followed through. They don’t reach out to build anything real—just to remind me they still can.

But this time, something in me had shifted.

They didn’t just send a text. They called. Out of nowhere.

And not even at a reasonable hour—because of course not.

They’re the kind of person who calls early in the morning without any thought about whether I might be sleeping, working, or simply trying to protect my peace.

And that’s the thing.

Connection without consideration isn’t love—it’s intrusion. I used to think, Maybe this time it’s different. But I’ve learned: people who want to be part of your life don’t show up sporadically.

They stay.

They consider.

They respect.

“You teach people how to treat you by what you allow, what you stop, and what you reinforce.” —Tony Gaskins

So I didn’t answer.

I chose not to entertain the illusion.

I chose peace.

The Bible reminds us, “Let your ‘yes’ be yes, and your ‘no,’ no.” (Matthew 5:37)

And for once, my “no” wasn’t accompanied by guilt or second-guessing.

It came with quiet clarity.

I didn’t owe them my voice just because they dialed my number.

I didn’t owe them access just because they remembered me for five seconds.

And I didn’t owe myself the exhaustion of wondering if this version of them might finally be enough.

“The opposite of love isn’t hate—it’s indifference.” —Elie Wiesel

And when someone keeps ghosting you, then returns at random hours with zero emotional accountability… that’s not love. That’s indifference wrapped in nostalgia.

Proverbs says it simply:

“Above all else, guard your heart, for everything you do flows from it.” (Proverbs 4:23)

That’s exactly what I did.

I guarded the healed version of myself—the one who knows her worth.

The one who’s not interested in halfway connections.

The one who refuses to apologize for wanting real effort, real care, and real presence.

Soul Insights

1. Choosing not to answer is still a form of communication.

Saying nothing doesn’t make you petty—it makes you clear. Sometimes the most powerful way to reclaim your voice is to not use it in spaces where it’s been taken for granted. Silence can be the most honest response to patterns that keep breaking your peace.

2. Ghosting isn’t confusing—it’s clarity in disguise.

When someone continually disappears without explanation, that’s not mystery—it’s message. And the message is this: I am not willing to give you consistency. Once I understood that, I stopped spinning it into something it wasn’t. And I started seeing the truth for what it was: an invitation to let go.

3. You don’t have to perform emotional availability for someone who’s inconsistent.

Being empathetic doesn’t mean you have to entertain people who don’t show up for you. Your emotional bandwidth is sacred. Save it for those who respect your time, your boundaries, and the space you take up in their world.

4. Boundaries aren’t barriers—they’re clarity.

When you don’t pick up the phone, it’s not cruelty—it’s a clear signal: I no longer engage in what drains me. Boundaries don’t punish others. They protect you. They say, “This is where I end, and where peace begins.”

5. You’re not wrong for wanting more.

Wanting a love that checks in, follows through, and respects your morning sleep schedule is not too much. Wanting someone who calls at appropriate times, asks how you are, and remembers the details of your life isn’t needy—it’s healthy. You’ve outgrown emotional crumbs. And that’s growth.

Final Thoughts

Maybe they’ll call again. Maybe they won’t.

But I’ve already answered—with my silence.

Because I’ve learned that I don’t need a relationship that only shows up in echoes.

I want one that shows up in presence.

No more wondering.

No more waiting.

Just peace, honesty, and the freedom of saying, “This doesn’t work for me anymore.”

And you know what?

That answer… was more than enough.

Your Turn

If this post spoke to something you’ve felt but couldn’t quite name, you’re not alone.

I write to make sense of moments like these—where growth feels both empowering and tender. My upcoming poetry book, 17 Syllables of Me, holds more reflections and poems like this: boundary, healing, faith, and finding your voice again.

And if you’ve ever let the phone ring, not out of bitterness, but because you finally knew your worth—

This space was made for you.

Soul Path Insights