I’ve been through my fair share of tough breakups. They’re painful, seemingly never-ending, and hard to recover from. You don’t always want to cut the cord, but sometimes you have to realize what’s best for you and get out before you get sucked even further into something that’s causing more pain than it’s worth. Which is why, after a night of intense thought and heavy drinking reflection, I’ve decided to say goodbye… to group texts.
I’d be lying if I said I’m going to miss it. Because there’s no way in hell I will ever again want to be part of something so emotionally draining and mentally exhausting. I’m sure the guy who invented group texts or GroupMes or whatever had good intentions, but I kind of think he should be punched in the throat, because these little shindigs have been nothing but a pain in my ass since the first day my friend added me to a group chat. Since then I’ve spent hours scrolling up to figure out what I missed while I was in class, frantically typing a response to every shared thought, and hating myself for putting in the effort to make friends in the first place.
Here’s a live look at my circle of friends’ group chat at this very moment:
Maybe it’s because I have the attention span of a goldfish, and I can’t keep up with fifteen different trains of thought. Or maybe it’s because I’m not an 11-year-old, and I have shit to do on a regular basis. Whatever the reason, I just can’t keep up with all of these bitches asking questions and weighing in on each other’s situations non-stop, 24/7. Don’t you people have anything else to do with your day? Can’t you just let me live?
The real problem with group texts is that everyone wants what they’re saying to be the main focus, which it never will be, because there’s no main focus at all. Pretty much every group text has the same premise: to confuse the shit out of all of its members while accomplishing nothing. But that doesn’t stop all of them members from ranting about their own problems and disregarding the entire conversation up until this point. It’s like, Jesus fucking Christ, Stephanie, take your boyfriend drama somewhere else. I thought we were all trying to figure out where to meet for dinner, and now you’re bringing up your flaming sack of shit relationship, like anyone in here gives a fuck.
The worst part is when you put effort into maintaining one topic within the group, because you just know you’re never going to get your point across. No matter how fast I type, my logical, concrete thoughts always pop up five messages after someone else has already come in and tried to change the topic. The only way around being ignored is to hammer your contribution to the conversation out really quickly, making everyone think you’re either stupid or shitfaced for making 15+ grammatical errors in one sentence.
And don’t even get me started on people who think that saying something in a group text is the equivalent of saying it to my face. “Why didn’t you tell me we were meeting at 9 instead of 8?” “It was in the group text.” NOPE. DOESN’T COUNT, MOTHERFUCKER. Believing that everyone will read through every single line of that shit is an unrealistic expectation, and I’m not even sure I want to associate with someone who has that kind of free time. It’s like people don’t even have hobbies anymore. Or jobs, for that matter. How is it that people are able to stay up to date, when I have a whopping 35 messages waiting for me every time I get out of the shower? That’s some sorcery shit, and I no longer wish to be a part of it.
From now on, if anyone wants to get a hold of me, pick up your phone and call me like a goddamn adult. Seriously. Just click my name, tell me where to be and when to be there, and then hang the fuck up. Or don’t talk to me at all, and let me live the life I’ve always wanted, alone in my apartment with my dog and a bag of honey pretzel twists. The older I get, the less I want to be surrounded by people and their dumb ideas and even dumber opinions. Your ridiculously chaotic group text is the epitome of this, which is why I’m doing the mature, hermit thing and saying goodbye to such a life, forever..
Image via Shutterstock
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Lucky Jo
Lucky Jo is a former and current TSM writer who likes her men how she likes her coffee: way too hot and unforgivably bitter. She graduated from the University of Missouri in 2016, proving that C's do in fact get degrees. She now spends her days working for a social media marketing agency, hiking with her dachshund, and trying to bring back the scrunchie. Hate mail and goat memes can be sent to lucyjmulvihill@gmail.com.
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