“Stop apologizing,” comes the reply. “You’re cheapening the art of apology.” I have just sent a cursory, ‘Sorry I didn’t text you back’ message to a friend after once again leaving them on read. We’d been in a rapid-fire back-and-forth—a rare thing to catch me in—when I suddenly stopped replying...and didn’t resurface for 12 days.
My friend is, of course, right to tell me to stop apologizing if it doesn’t come with any actionable change. Am I actually sorry I didn’t text back if I continue to...not text back? Well, yes and no. During those two weeks, there wasn’t a day that went by when I didn’t think about her unread WhatsApps—hers and all the others. It was my own green-dotted, guilt-ridden hellscape. And yet, I didn’t do anything about it.
Much has been written about people like me—the "bad texter"—usually by the offenders themselves (hi!). They might offer a feeble apology, haphazard defense, or very genuine explanation. For my part, there are instances I am, honestly, very sorry for: the birthday dinner I missed because I didn’t open the messages inviting me; the two childhood friends I ghosted for four months; the now years-old voice note from an old colleague I still haven’t listened to. And there are explanations, too: a job that requires me to be always logged on, which can make all screentime feel like work; a bereavement that made anything other than grieving impossible; a stubborn adamance to only message via WhatsApp Desktop.
And I’m not alone in my shame-filled habit. More and more people around me seem to be referring to themselves as "bad texters." Being reachable 24/7 on multiple platforms is, it appears, starting to take its toll. With the time we have outside of work—and, if living with a partner or housemates, the time we spend alone—feeling increasingly precious, the last thing many of us want to do is spend that time typing to names on a screen. When we polled* you, dear Cosmo readers, about feeling overwhelmed by messages, 49% of you said you "sometimes" did, 27% said you "often" did, and 12% said you did "constantly." That’s a staggering 88% of you feeling the burden of "always on" communication, on a pretty regular basis.
A more appropriate name for this feeling might be "digital burnout," which is a type of burnout—a state of emotional and physical exhaustion due to prolonged, usually work-related, stress—triggered specifically by excessive use of digital devices. Per a 2025 Deloitte survey, people are starting to take action, with 29% of Gen Z respondents saying they’ve deleted a social media app in the past year, 50% of all respondents turning off notifications for one or more apps, and 18% setting screen time limits.
This widespread digital fatigue is likely a hangover from the pandemic, when IRL interactions were swapped for video calls and Zoom quizzes, and our homes became our workplaces and third spaces. Our screen time skyrocketed. Interestingly, bad texters aren’t necessarily spending less time on their phones. My own phone is almost constantly in my hand—I regularly use it to read the news, scroll on Instagram or TikTok, and do the New York Times daily crossword. There are just lots of times when I can't be bothered to talk to anyone.
“Our phones can lead to exhaustion and a sense of feeling overwhelmed by the constant pull of attention,” says clinical psychologist Dr Lynsey Kelly. “Burnout from being ‘always on’ is therefore a real risk. We have no control over incoming messages and often have no good way of keeping up with the influx of information as well as our actual lives. We are aware that we value spending good quality time with friends and family vs being on our phones, and yet we end up having to do this [be on our phones] to manage demands.”
Although most people can empathize with this feeling, those who reject this constant pull for attention are usually deemed to be in the wrong. So, here’s my argument: maybe the "good texters" are the problem.
Although I concede that the advance in digital communication has been transformative in a largely positive way—it’s enabled me, for example, to keep in touch with my sister who lives halfway across the world; it’s allowed marginalized people to find like-minded communities; it’s helped shine a light on global atrocities; the list goes on—human beings are not meant to be contactable every minute of every day. For want of a less childish phrase: we all sometimes need to be left the hell alone.
“We have to remember that this is a structural problem not of our own making,” says Kelly. “It has been created by technology to try and make money out of us. It’s a new problem for humans and we haven’t really solved it yet. It’s not your fault if you’re feeling overwhelmed; this is, in fact, a very normal response to this new social problem. Our brains are not wired to be constantly wired.” She continues: “[Getting] instant responses when we message our loved ones means being constantly interrupted, [which] our brains can’t really cope with. Attempts to multitask reduce productivity and increase stress. There’s a sense of being constantly ‘on call.’”
This can lead to your in-person interactions being interrupted, too. “We can confuse quantity for quality — feeling like we are staying in touch by messaging,” says Kelly. “This can also create a state of ‘absent presence,’ where the intrusiveness of phones can detrimentally affect our real-life interactions, distracting us [from this quality in-person time].”
Admittedly, this doesn’t seem to be as big of a problem for everyone. In our poll, 11% of you said you reply to your friends immediately, even if you’re too busy, while 59% of you said you reply as soon as you’re free to (20%, meanwhile, said it takes a few days, while just 10% said it can regularly take you a week or more).
When I ask my "good texter" friends how they’re so good at texting, one says: “I have the uncontrollable urge to people-please, which includes replying to people if they need me.” Another says: “It’s not that hard. Like now, I just reached for my phone, there was a text from someone I love, and so I’m responding to it. And then I’ll get on with my life.”
And how do these wonderful friends of mine put up with me, their texting Wario? “I’ve adapted to you being a bad texter by just knowing that it’s not personal,” the first friend tells me. “I’ve learned to be more understanding that you find it overwhelming. Also, I have you on Find My Friends, so I don’t have to constantly worry that you’ve died if you haven’t replied for days.”
A third friend says: “I don’t think it’s bad because I trust in our friendship that we’ll text again. If I’m feeling social, I want you to reply immediately, but as soon as I’m not, I don’t even think about it. Although the best is when we’re both replying at the same time, which is heaven.”
It’s taken a little while—and a lot of apologies—but I think I’m at a place with most of my friends where, even if they find it annoying, they understand that it’s not personal. Our poll shows that you largely agree, too, with 70% of you saying you don’t think it’s rude if your friend doesn’t reply within 24 hours.
Some of my friends have even learned how to get me to text back immediately: for example, if they say, as one friend regularly does, "Stop ignoring me," it seems to shake me into action. Plus, it’s worth noting that, while I don’t feel the need to talk to my mates all the time, I do text them back when we’re actually making plans—and I see my friends (who I love!) a lot. That’s not to say my bad habits haven’t frustrated or even upset my friends—and, in some cases, it has caused a few friendships to drift, which I regret. I’m still trying to set better boundaries with myself, including: don’t leave people on read for two weeks (it’s a work in progress), reply quickly if the message is timely, and arrange catch-up calls with my long-distance friends.
But I’m also trying to not be so hard on myself—which you, fellow "bad texters," should do, too. “By blaming yourself, it becomes harder to actually solve the problem,” explains Kelly. “Try to take a more realistic and kind perspective—if we can recognize this as a social problem that we’re all trying to navigate, and realize that we’re never going to be able to reply instantly to everyone unless we totally sacrifice our own mental health, then we can feel less guilty about it.”
Equally, if you’re a "good texter" but secretly wish you could take some time off the messaging grind, Kelly suggests that “it might be helpful to go back to what we individually value and care about most, and then try to design our use of tech around this, rather than let our phones dictate how we live.” Reclaiming control, she adds, can help reduce stress levels for everyone—good and bad texters alike.
In short: if I don’t text you back, then don’t take it personally. I just don’t want to talk to you, or anyone, right now.
*Poll conducted via Instagram, with 4,287 respondents
