No, I have never blocked anyone due to political affiliation or beliefs. We all have our reasons for opting to block, but I am not one to fear a difference of opinion. However, I am afraid of the power of having the freedom to say, text, tweet, and post publicly whatever one wants whenever one wants. I have wielded that power, rarely, but nonetheless, once or twice is enough to feel the regret and wrongdoing. Recently, I have taken a step back and thought about what it is like to be the one on the receiving end of intense messages whether good or bad and thought against it.
The first time I recall noticing this paralysis of fear and a whole mix of negative emotions stemmed from receiving and sending texts was in December. I (immaturely) confronted a friend through text about how it made me sad and disappointed that we were seemingly not friends anymore. I'll admit, I made an assumption. I was reacting to seeing a Snapchat of her out with friends for her birthday, and I felt slighted, confused and hurt. In my head, I could not come up with an explanation for why. So instead, I sent the short and not so sweet text that would have best been addressed through a phone call or an attempt at a coffee date.
Recommended for you
Days later I received a long and blindsiding response that criticized my intelligence, my character, and my expectations, ending in a resolution that we should not be friends due to our differences. I understood why she got defensive and reacted so strongly and painfully. She had made up her mind, and I knew any response I could offer in that moment would only add fuel to the fire. I chose not to say anything at all.
Out of fear that I would continue to receive messages or be tempted to defend myself in response, I blocked her number, took her off of my Snapchat, and stopped following her on Instagram. We are still friends on Facebook, but I do not engage with her posts, and I do not expect her to engage with mine. Her criticism hit me where my deepest insecurities have lived for years and while I respected her words, I was speechless or "text-less" in this case. I blocked her phone number because I had to let go of a friendship that was not serving either of us.
A similar, less hurtful back and forth occurred with another friend months later, but I think I learned from December 2016, so that in February 2017, instead of continuing to engage in ferocious messages with those misunderstandings of tone (that cannot be conveyed over text!), I called. I was also ready to throw my phone at the wall or crush it with my bare hands (I'm not strong enough for that, but I can pretend!) Twice in one week I called this friend to clarify messages because I found myself getting anxious reading paragraphs of texts.
Luckily, the calls ended up being a faster and safer remedy than a stream of words on a screen.
Not even for a second did I consider blocking because I knew that resolutions could be made through picking up the phone first instead of hanging it up. I told you I learned my lesson.
But the block that shocked my friends was the most recent one -- when a relationship between me and a perfectly lovely man ended. I informed him by texting him, "I'm doing the social media delete thing and phone block thing. That's how it's gotta be. Don't take it personally." Not the most eloquent, and I didn't even mean for it to partially rhyme, but it served its purpose. Immediately after sending that message, I blocked him in my iPhone contacts, then on Facebook, then on Twitter, then on Snapchat, then on Instagram, then on LinkedIn (!), and finally on e-mail. Now, the only way we could reach each other would be through snail mail or the off chance we cross paths!
Contrary to popular belief, it wasn't an empowerment or cruelty tactic. I made the decision that he could not have access to me anymore, and I could not have access to him. It seems harsh, I know, but it cuts out the confusion or possible "signals" and allows for a cleaner and quicker moving forward process. Of course, I want to know what is going on with him and reciprocate, but we ended for a reason, and we have to remain true to that fact.
Like many other newly-broken-up folks, I have experienced those moments where I have seen posts from exes (think, Tumblr poems!) that I think to myself, "What does this mean? What is going on? Is this for me?" Being able to "check in" and "keep tabs" on exes allows for rumination and revisiting something that has ended.
It opens up a can of worms that are better left inside and it isn't worth the time.
In a very public and connected world, there have to be ways to preserve the sacredness and the privacy of one's life. And that is what blocking allows us to do. It isn't enough to just unfollow or remove, that only makes people less accessible.
I don't want to make it easy for people to say cruel things to me or hurt me. If it is truly important that they see or speak to me, they will need to make an effort to reach me.
It's not personal; it's protective.
