We all have that one friend, a relative, or even a parent who has been emotionally unavailable when we needed them the most.
I was always the person who answered. The one who listened. The one who showed up.
Until one Friday night, when a call came in and, for the first time, I hesitated before answering.
Becoming unavailable does not necessarily mean disappearing from people's lives. It means not responding to every call or message immediately. It means not being endlessly present for everyone while quietly collapsing internally.
Sometimes, being unavailable is a combination of physical, emotional and digital unavailability.
Everyone experiences difficult phases in life.
Yet sometimes we realise that people only reach out when it is convenient for them. You become the person they call when they need someone to listen, but not necessarily someone they choose to prioritise.
And there is a certain kind of pain in realising that you were always an option, even when they were never an option to you.
I slowly realised that even the strongest listener needs someone to hear their silence.
Tell me honestly, do you truly need people around you who never prioritize your presence?
Prioritizing myself initially felt unfamiliar.
I had spent so much time being available for everyone that choosing my own time, energy and emotions felt almost selfish.
But friendships and relationships are supposed to be mutual. They should not constantly depend on one person giving everything while the other simply takes.
Some people may call you selfish when you stop allowing yourself to be emotionally used. But sometimes the unanswered call is not cruelty. Sometimes it is a boundary.
That Friday night taught me something I had been avoiding for a long time.
I call it the art of being unavailable.
Protecting your peace does not mean that you love people less. It simply means loving yourself enough to stop abandoning yourself for others.
Sometimes, becoming unavailable is simply becoming available to yourself.
