There’s a certain kind of silence that isn’t quiet at all.
It screams.
It punishes.
It withholds.
It turns a room into a war zone without ever raising a voice.
And when someone chooses to go silent instead of speaking —
to punish instead of communicate,
to disappear instead of explain —
that’s not maturity. That’s control.
You don’t have to do something wrong to be punished by someone who’s afraid of your autonomy.
Sometimes, all it takes is living your life. Choosing yourself. Going out. Laughing a little too hard.
And suddenly, you’re being iced out for simply existing in your own freedom.
But that’s not love.
Love doesn’t vanish when it feels insecure.
Love doesn’t pout in the form of Instagram notes.
Love doesn’t wait for you to read its mind or beg for attention.
Love doesn’t use silence as leverage.
And when it does —
when someone knows what their absence does to you
and chooses it anyway —
that is emotional immaturity at best and manipulation at worst.
You don’t have to shrink to make someone else feel safe.
You don’t have to stop living your life to earn someone’s approval.
And you sure as hell don’t have to tolerate disrespect masked as silence.
It’s easy to confuse passivity with peace.
But make no mistake:
Silence that hurts is still noise.
It still leaves bruises.
Everyone deserves communication.
Even when it’s hard. Especially when it’s hard.
Because decency is not conditional.
Because love without respect is just possession in disguise.
So if someone you care about makes a habit of withholding their words when you need them most —
if they disappear to make a point instead of having a conversation —
you’re not crazy for feeling hurt.
You’re not dramatic for asking for clarity.
And you’re not wrong for walking away from silence that was never meant to protect you.
Because someone who truly loves you will speak.
Even when they’re hurt. Even when it’s uncomfortable.
They will choose connection, not distance.
They will choose you.
And if they don’t?
Let the silence be the answer.
“””””
You don’t get to weaponize absence and call it growth.
You don’t get to starve someone of love and call it self-preservation.
You don’t get to claim God and then act in ways that are anything but holy.
Because this?
This is not godly. This is not kind.
This is not what love looks like.
Not love I want. Not love I’ll keep.
Everyone — regardless of what’s happening — deserves basic human respect.
Communication. Clarity. Compassion.
If you’re the one holding the light, you don’t get to hide it.
You don’t get to leave someone in the dark just because you’re uncomfortable with your own shadows.
And now I see it.
A man who loves me wouldn’t do this.
A man who loves me wouldn’t make me beg for emotional scraps.
He wouldn’t let pride sit where presence should be.
He wouldn’t disappear and call it discipline.
I’m done explaining why I deserve to be treated well.
I’m done shrinking so he can feel big.
I’m done hoping silence will turn into softness.
Because love isn’t supposed to hurt like this.
And now I know:
No man that truly loves you will do that
