I Hate That I've Become the Friend Who's a Bad Texter
Is texting back harder because I'm a parent or because of my ADHD?
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In this essay:
My origin as a chatterbox who loves making friends
A history of being a “good texter” before I became a parent
How parenting has made it very difficult to text back
Why ADHD makes it even harder to stay connected
All about the overwhelm, mental exhaustion, and shame
One of my favorite things that I’ve ever written: “living in this BS late-stage capitalist society where fascism and hating others because of the color of their skin or who they love has somehow come back into fashion.”
I’m just going to come right out and say this: I am a bad texter.
Like, one of those friends who won’t text you back for weeks or months—and sometimes only because you checked in again. And again. I’m always apologetic because I really, truly miss you… but there is something about my life these days that transformed me from an avid always-quick-to-respond texter to someone who can barely manage to text even my closest of friends.
And I’m ashamed of my newfound bad texter personality because… Well, I love talking to people. Especially my people.
Ever since I could remember, I was pretty much a chatterbox. Sure, I had some shy years after my family immigrated to the U.S. when I was 8 years old, and I had to learn English and American society… but eventually, my chatterbox self came back.
My abuela would joke that I was being a “cotorra” when I would get in these chatty moods—aka a parrot in Spanish. It’s something that she has said about many of us on my Cuban side—herself included—and that I now think about whenever my 4-year-old starts chattering away. (Hmmm is this perhaps because we’ve all got undiagnosed ADHD on that side of the family? Probably.)
If you know me in person, then you know that I refer to myself as a “shy extrovert.” I get my energy from connections with other people, but I am initially timid when meeting someone new. I always hated networking events and admired my best friend in college, who had an insatiable curiosity for meeting new people. I’ve got a few other friends who have this power, and I am always in awe. I love meeting new people, too, but I can never bring myself to introduce myself first. At least not without feeling like the most awkward person in the room. Yet if you introduce yourself, or if you’re the friend who introduces me to a new group, then stand back as I make a genuine connection with every single person.
If connections are important to me, then why has texting—which I will still happily do for hours when I get caught up in a conversation—become so difficult for me?
Many years ago, early in my career, I took what used to be called the CliftonStrengths 2.0 test. Back then, I had to buy the StrengthsFinder 2.0 book (which I still have and find very helpful) and use a special code to take the test online. Years later, after I met my husband, we both took the test (a second time for each of us) and I was pleasantly surprised to see that my so-called “strengths” haven’t changed.
The strength that surprised and delighted me the most was what they call WOO, or “winning others over.” It basically talks about how I’m a people person and love to connect with others. One of my favorite phrases from the description of that strength is still something that I remember and repeat often: There are no strangers in the world, only friends I haven’t met yet.
But if connections are so important to me and I’ve always enjoyed having lots of friends from different walks of life, then why am I just so bad at keeping in touch these days? Why has texting—which I will still happily do for hours when I get caught up in a conversation—become so difficult for me?
Well, I’ve got two theories: Parenting. And ADHD.
I Became a Bad Texter After Becoming a Mom
These are several very close friends of mine where every time we chat, it starts with “Sorry I’m such a bad texter…” This happens for both people, honestly, and I will fully admit that these friends are all moms and most of them are neurodivergent. (Interesting…)
When I first had Rio, it was the start of the pandemic and texting was pretty much my lifeline. I remember days and days when I would be texting with a friend on my phone while rocking my baby to sleep or trying to breast feed him. I was very active on Instagram back then too, using the social media platform to keep up with my closest friends, comment on what they posted, slide into their DMs. That was pretty much my life during 2020 because, well, I couldn’t see anyone in person.
Truth be told, I was already used to not being able to see most of my friends in person because I had left New York City—the city of my heart that was my home for 12 years and the only place where I truly felt like I belonged—in April 2016 to maintain my sobriety after going to rehab in July 2015. I learned quickly that NYC just wasn’t conducive to me healing my relationship with alcohol, so I left. I met my husband at the end of that month, and settled in Florida with him.
In Florida, where I spent my childhood, I quickly reconnected with my best high school friends and we became really close again right away. I met new friends, too, and that was great. Eventually, I had a social life in Florida and still kept in regular touch with my NYC friends—including seeing them IRL when I traveled.
And all though this time, and the many years before, I was a great texter.
I remember saying to friends that I could never date a “bad texter” because I need constant communication with the person I’m with.
It’s something I actually prided myself on and something that I required of anyone I was dating. I remember saying to friends that I could never date a “bad texter” because I need constant communication with the person I’m with. (That’s still true, by the way, just ask my partner!) I also remember being judgy of “bad texters” back then, saying: Why can’t they just respond when they read it?!
This was especially frustrating with my brother, who was and continues to be a notoriously bad texter.
It was something that I hated so, so much… and then I began doing it, too.
Although those early parenting conversations were still happening, I noticed as Rio got older that I had less “time” to text with friends. I realize now that it was actually less energy, but back then I truly thought (and sometimes still think) that time is the issue.
As with many of us who become parents, or even when we enter into partnerships, we have less available time to spend with friends and others who are outside of our family unit. Literally, just less time for those who don’t live in our house.
It wasn’t that I didn’t want to text back but inevitably a friend would text right as it was my child’s nap time or I was doing a grocery pickup or it was the only 20 minutes of my day where I could rest without anyone interrupting me. Every single time, I would think of a reply—but my fingers were simply not available to type it out.
I’d feel guilty and promise myself that I’ll text back that evening when I had more time and energy. And then I didn’t. Nor the next evening. Or the evening after that…
Sometimes, even if I technically could write back in the moment, I would stop myself because I knew I wouldn’t have time to really engage in the conversation further or because I wouldn’t really be able to take the time to write out the full response I actually wanted to write. I’d feel guilty and promise myself that I’ll text back that evening when I had more time and energy. And then I didn’t. Nor the next evening. Or the evening after that… until it was possibly weeks later and my brain was just screaming at me about how I should have just texted back initially in the first place, even if it was a short answer, even if I couldn’t keep the conversation going.
But I didn’t do that. Instead, I just continued to feel bad for not texting back the people that I love and for being a bad friend.
Then one day, I remembered a conversation I had with my “bad texter” brother about why he often takes months to text back.
“It’s like, I read the text and want to reply, but can’t in the moment for whatever reason,” he explained. “So I tell myself I’ll do it later, but then I’m too tired later, so I tell myself I’ll do it tomorrow. Then tomorrow comes, and I am too tired again or too busy or something else comes up. So then I tell myself the next day, or the next day, or the next day… Until it’s been weeks and I don’t text back because it’s now overwhelming and I feel so shitty for ignoring them for so long. I’m embarrassed.”
Overwhelming? Feeling shitty? Embarassed? Sounds familiar. Except my brother isn’t a parent. He does, however, have ADHD. And so another piece of the puzzle fell into place.
Having ADHD Impacts My Bad Texting, Too
I was diagnosed with Attention-Deficit/Hyperactivity Disorder at age 35, in the summer of 2021, shortly after my little family of three moved to Colorado and a month before my son turned 18 months old.
Looking back, as many ADHDers who get a diagnosis in adulthood, I saw the signs early on. But like many of us socialized as women, my symptoms were very much internal and I unknowingly managed them by establishing coping mechanisms that I use to this day. I just didn’t know they were coping mechanisms back then.
So I can honestly say that I never really felt like I had ADHD until after I became a parent.
This is, unfortunately, not uncommon. It’s something that I am still working out in therapy but recently I said something to my therapist that really hit home for me: “It’s like these days, 70% of my brain is taken up by all things family life—my child, my husband, my house. All of the things they like and don’t like, all of the things I want or have to do, all of the plans we have or I want to make… It’s just all always there, all the time, and I can’t ever turn it off.” (This is often called the maternal mental load, FYI.)
My therapist has patiently pointed out to me—several times—that my life in 2024 looks wildly different than my life in 2014 or 2004, so I shouldn’t have the same expectations of myself. But guess what? It’s really difficult to let go of how things used to be or how I used to be able to do all the things—like text my friends back in a timely fashion—before I got married, before I had a kid, before I moved to a new state, before I had terrible depression last year.
But the truth is, 70% of my brain is constantly taken up by all of the things that don’t really have a whole lot to do with me personally, my job, or my internal life. A lot of the things I want to do or have to do or try to do haven’t changed for me, but my capacity for those things went down by 70%.
It’s no wonder that my previously hidden ADHD symptoms are now very freaking apparent! I’m only working with 30% of my previous capacity, maybe 50% on a really great day. And those don’t come along often.
And that’s not even factoring in that all of the things that take up the 70% of my brain that’s reserved for parenting and adulting are actually much, much more mentally and emotionally exhausting than anything I do with the other 30% of my brain.
It’s like these days, 70% of my brain is taken up by all things family life—my child, my husband, my house. All of the things they like and don’t like, all of the things I want or have to do, all of the plans I want to make… It’s just all always there, all the time.
And that 30% of my brain? Well, it’s mostly busy worrying about my job, trying to keep up with my mental health, and navigating all of my intersectional identities (bisexual, neurodivergent, Latina, writer, mom, wife…) and how I show up in this world. Plus, like, remembering to feed myself at least once a day, shower regularly so I don’t feel icky and sticky, make myself get up to go to the bathroom even when I’m engrossed in something but have also been accidentally holding my pee for half an hour, etc.
So instead I end up spending most of my very limited free time on, like, avoiding doing anything that takes even a tiny bit of mental, emotional, or physical energy. Basically, I do absolutely nothing unless it involves laying in bed and hyperfocusing on a hobby. (Just ask my poor introvert husband, who misses when our free time was spent snuggling on the couch watching one of our favorite TV shows instead of me holed up in the bedroom the minute after Rio closes his eyes.)
But isn’t this when I should be texting people back?!
In theory, yes. Free time as a parent is not easy to come by and that’s absolutely when we have time to do something just for *us,* which includes investing in our friendships and connecting with the real person we are inside.
I often know that I would feel much, much better if I just texted back all of my friends, but I don’t. I want to so badly, but something always stops me.
Often, what stops me is feeling overwhelmed. There are so many people that I love and want to connect with, that I actually end up feeling like I don’t know where or who to start with, so I tell myself I’ll do it tomorrow. Then tomorrow comes and guess what? I still don’t have the energy and I still feel overwhelmed.
Becoming a “bad texter” has honestly been one of the most frustrating parts of becoming a parent for me. It has nothing to do with the actual child rearing and family life stuff, but it has everything to do with how I am able to show up outside of those mommy/wife spaces.
And it feels awful.
There are so many people that I love and want to connect with, that I actually end up feeling like I don’t know where or who to start with, so I tell myself I’ll do it tomorrow. Then tomorrow comes and guess what? I still don’t have the energy and I still feel overwhelmed.
There are friends I’ve had for almost 20 years (hi NYU crew!) and friends I’ve had for even longer that I’m sure think I’m kind of a flake these days. Like, a snowflake that falls on your nose and brings you joy, but disappears just as quickly. I imagine that’s what our conversations are like these days—we check in, chat for a bit, and then I don’t reply, forget to reply for days, then feel too ashamed to reply for months, until I’m terrified that these friendships that I treasure so dearly will fade.
And then there are newer friends who I want to make deeper connections with, who I know want the same thing from our friendship, but who I also forget to text back and forget to make plans with and forget to check-in with until perhaps those new friends are just not that into me anymore. It’s not like they can wait forever for me to text back and forge an actual friendship, can they?
My neurodivergent brain struggles with this so badly. I just can’t understand why something that is incredibly important to me—friendships and connection with other humans—is also just so fucking hard for me to do.
One of the worst parts of having ADHD is wanting to do something and not being able to do it.
I don’t know how to explain that to someone who doesn’t have my kind of brain, but that’s literally what happens. And I hate it. If I want something, truly want something, then shouldn’t that be enough motivation to do it? Sadly, no. At least not when you’re neurodivergent.
Or perhaps parenting is what makes it so hard to do the thing you want to do when you’re too busy doing the things you need to do (hello, I forgot to make dinner!).
Let’s face it, though: It’s probably both. And probably other things I’m not even considering.
Perhaps for you, dear reader, it’s none of these things but many other things that keep you from connecting with loved ones who live outside of your household. Or perhaps you’re a great texter, have always been a great texter, and you have the magic secret to being a great texter again that you want to share with me? (Please, oh please, say you do.)
I truly hope I don’t legitimately lose any friendships during this phase but I’m terrified that I will.
I know that I am not the only person—and certainly not the only parent or ADHDer or human in general—who struggles with this.
I know that because friends have occasionally confessed to these things, too. How the pandemic has made connecting so much more difficult. How we’re all tired or overwhelmed because of work stress or our child’s new phase or climate change anxiety or living in this BS late-stage capitalist society where fascism and hating others because of the color of their skin or who they love has somehow come back into fashion.
So we’re all struggling with this, right?…. Right?
Just before I sat down to write this essay, I had the brilliant idea of ending it on a positive note. Since overwhelm over how many people I want to text often keeps me from actually doing it, I thought: Why don’t I challenge myself to texting just one friend a day? That will make a great end to this essay! (Ugh.)
And that is a great idea. But I’m never lacking in great ideas (or great text responses, tbh). What I’m lacking in is the ability to execute.
So instead of publicly declaring here that I’m going to TURN THIS ALL AROUND and finally BECOME A GOOD TEXTER AGAIN and NOT IGNORE THE FRIENDS I LOVE, I’m just going to sit here with these feelings.
These complicated feelings about my inability to do something I want to do because, perhaps, that’s just the phase of life I’m in right now.
I truly hope I don’t legitimately lose any friendships during this phase but I’m terrified that I will. But since I can’t seem to be able to change my situation right now, I’m going to add another little bit of hope.
I hope that, if you’re my friend, you have at least one beautiful memory with me. I know I have with you.
Have you found it more difficult to keep in touch with friends after becoming a parent? If you’re neurodivergent, have you had these “bad texter” struggles too, and for how long? And if you have any tips for texting friends even when that overwhelm and mental exhaustion hit, please share. I’d love to hear from all of you!
Abrazos,
Your friendly neighborhood bisexual Latina mom with ADHD raising a Gen Alpha kid
P.S. If you’re one of my friends reading this, sorry that I sent you this article instead of having an actual conversation with you. I promise I’m working on it!
Nick and I often ask ourselves, “is this something I’m struggling with because I’m in recovery or is this just part of life?” There’s no real answer but it’s great to ask these Qs!
I think you put the burden too much on yourself! I struggle with this mightily as well, but lately I’ve been thinking, “why is it the norm that I’m supposed to keep on top of all these inputs coming at me from a million different directions all instantaneously?” I wonder about being a mom 20 years ago. The mental load was always a lot, but take away smartphones and you instantly cut it down by a significant portion. So what is it about our culture that grabs our attention in every way, ratchets up the mental load, and then WE feel guilty for being bad texters? The conditions are just too damn hard!