I Am Tired of Being Constantly Available

Yes, I Saw Your Message. No, I’m Not Ignoring You.

July 11, 2025

Francesca Namala

How many times have you ignored someone’s call because you were lounging on the couch, watching Netflix, and just... feeling a bit tired? And how often have you bombarded your sibling with calls, demanding they pick up, only to get frustrated when they don’t respond? What does it mean for us to miss a call or lag on a text when many of us have access to phones 24/7? Are we the problem, or do we just need to rethink how we approach our relationships in the digital age?

Miski Omar’s article, “I’m Not Ignoring Your Message – I’m Overwhelmed by the Tyranny of Being Reachable,” draws attention to the often hidden costs of our digital lives. As we’ve adopted a variety of ways to stay connected, whether through text messaging, social media, or video calls, our online presence is constantly on display and continuously updated. Take Instagram, for example: you scroll through your DMs and you can see when someone was last active. Your friend hasn’t responded to your message from over a week ago, but there they are, posting selfies on Instagram. Some of us might find this inconsiderate. Maybe even a little fake? Honestly, though, I’ve been that friend. And I would call it virtual exhaustion.

Sometimes, I am at a crossroads with keeping up with this technologically advanced culture while building genuine relationships and connections. I love my friends, but I hate being on my phone. I want to see what my friends are up to, but I also want to delete Instagram and throw my phone into the ocean about every other week. Am I a bad friend for wanting to protect my eyes from the physical cost of staring at a screen all the time? Am I selfish for wanting to experience life beyond the confines of the screen, some days quietly moseying around my neighborhood without so much as glancing at my phone? Is it now normal for us to be perpetually available, sacrificing our physical, mental, and spiritual well-being in the process?

I can tell you what I think: we need to build a new normal. We need to normalize spending more time unplugged, outside, with our toes in the grass and our heads in the sky. Our dependence on technology, and the pressure to be constantly available, is only fueling our crippling addiction to phones, laptops, and TVs—and the consequences that follow. Studies have repeatedly shown how excessive screen time impacts adolescent mental health, leading to increased feelings of anxiety, depression, and loneliness. Prolonged exposure to screens also significantly affects eye health, causing issues like dry eyes and eye strain. Throw this on top of the anxiety and overwhelming feelings we develop just from receiving multiple messages a day, feeling pressured to get back to everyone, and doom scrolling through Instagram in between, and we have got ourselves one stressed out human. Our constant virtual availability isn’t just exhausting—it’s physically and emotionally taxing. We owe it to ourselves, and to our bodies, to make a change.

Omar puts it perfectly: “The boundaries between reception and response have collapsed.” In today’s achievement-driven society, we have become so obsessed with doing more, being more, and connecting more that somewhere along the way, spending time with friends has become just another task on our to-do list. It’s unfortunate how we now treat joy, play, and friendship as chores, like picking up laundry from the dry cleaners. Suddenly, socializing feels like a business meeting. We’re planning hangouts weeks in advance, hashing out details through text messages that look more like mini-essays. And when one thing falls out of place, we cancel the whole plan as though it wouldn't be “worth it” to hang out with your friends at home playing board games.

Don’t get me wrong, I’m all for planning the cliff-jumping, waterfall-hiking get-togethers. My friends and I have created some of our best memories through these meticulously planned, monologuing via group chat threads. But there are times when I simply don’t have the energy for all the coordination. Sometimes, I don’t even have the energy to respond to a text asking if I’m free next weekend. The honest answer? “I don’t know—it depends on whether I actually manage to get some sleep this week.”

So, what happens when our desire to connect gets entangled with the obligation to immediately respond to every text, DM, email, and phone call? Communication becomes a performance, a way to prove to ourselves (or to others) that we’re good friends, partners, or people. Not replying feels like a moral failure, a social sin. We treat messages like assignments from a high school teacher: “Turn it in and get it over with.” We check emails and Instagram posts between texts, or even flip the other way around—checking texts between work meetings and emails. And our personal needs and boundaries get trampled. Tired? Eyes sore? Too bad.

In this chaotic world of constant connectivity, we forget that the people who care about us should want us to take care of ourselves first. We forget that we ourselves should want to take care of our bodies and minds. Sometimes, that means letting a message sit for a while before responding. You’re not unreliable or selfish for taking a few days, weeks, or even a month to reply. Life is busy. People reach out for different reasons. And sometimes, you just need space to take care of yourself. It’s okay to prioritize your well-being over immediate replies.

And guess what? It’s also okay if some people get left on read for a while. You weren’t built to be a robot, glued to your screen, constantly texting everyone back. You are here to go outside, touch some grass, dance with the wind. I don’t know, maybe we just need to live a little?

Maybe we can take a lesson from Carly Rae Jepsen and turn our “call me back” demands into “call me maybe” moments. Let’s give our friends the space to respond when it works for them, at a time and place that also allows them to manage their other responsibilities, tackle their tasks, and most importantly, take care of themselves.