I saw this quote and shared it on Facebook recently. Little did I expect, it sparked a great conversation among my friends online. Comments ranged from, "No, they love you enough to walk away when we need space" to "Sometimes, they don't love themselves and can't give what they don't have." Others echoed the need to take "time to calm down" because sometimes we can be "too mad to speak rationally." One wife of 27 years pointed out the nuance between "discussing" and "arguing," and an experienced educator wisely noted that maturity can be a significant factor in the ability to communicate effectively.
Honestly -- the whole thread was exactly what the Internet should be for. I loved the multiple perspectives, supported by anecdotal examples and observations. I thanked each person for their contribution; some even replied to each other. No one called names or hurled obscenities. It was a veritable heaven on earth.
The exchange also gave me much to consider, so here we are on my blog. (Don't blame me -- you clicked the link!)
My original comment when posting the above quote was: "I tend to over-communicate, so I never understand this approach. Action (or inaction) speaks volumes."
Re-reading those words, I clearly see why my friends chimed in. I know better than to use an absolute like "never" without operationally defining the antecedent. My friends were right to point out that sometimes, "practicing the pause" prevents us from saying words we later regret. I couldn't agree more. In fact, I balk at the Bible verse: "Don't let the sun go down on your anger" (Eph. 4:26), which has been morphed into the secular advice of "Don't go to bed angry." Actually, there may be times when going to bed angry is much better than staying up all night arguing with your partner, when you are drained and irrational. Taking some time to cool off, to reflect, to calm down -- that's wise.
That's also not the silent treatment. This is what I should have made clear in my post. The silent treatment implies a complete unwillingness to talk at all. It's not a healthy pause, telling your partner or friend, "I need some time to think about this. Can we please talk about this in morning?" The silent treatment is a refusal to communicate entirely.
In "What You are Saying When You Give Someone the Silent Treatment," Daryl Austin writes, "The silent treatment goes by many names: shunning, social isolation, stonewalling, ghosting. Although psychologists have nuanced definitions for each term, they are all essentially forms of ostracism." In the same article, Joel Cooper, a psychology professor at Princeton remarks, "In the short term, the silent treatment causes stress. In the long term, the stress can be considered abuse."
I don't want to rehash Austin's entire article -- please read it for yourself -- but the fact is people who use the silent treatment are saying, "I don't love you enough to even talk to you." The silent treatment is a punishment, it's a way to gaslight the other person. That's not what love does. And I stand by my original statement that "I never understand this approach." That is to say, if you have a relationship with someone, why would you do this, except to hurt them?
Why would a parent give a child the silent treatment, for example, except to punish and withhold love? How can someone let days, months, even years go by without talking to their child? I will never understand that. Never.
Why would a partner use the silent treatment against the person with whom they are supposedly building a life? That's a power move -- I'm in charge here, you've violated my rules, and I will punish you by ignoring you. That's not a partnership, that's not love. I will never understand that. Never.
Why would a child ignore their parent's attempts at connection without even an explanation? To be sure -- sometimes, children (of all ages) make the decision to set healthy boundaries with a toxic parent. In one such situation I can think of, the child told the parent the reasons why she needed distance from the parent and their toxic behaviors. The parent refused to recognize any of the toxic behaviors, but at least the child gave the reason for needing distance in the relationship. But to merely disappear without a trace, without an explanation? To simply stop responding to messages or calls from a parent who hasn't shown any toxic behaviors? That's not healthy. That's either cowardice or manipulation. I will never understand that. Never.
As I've already admitted, I tend to over-communicate. It's been used against me in past relationships, but it's how I am wired. I am not OK being not OK with someone I care about. I will ruminate endlessly on what I may have done wrong to upset the other person, I will seek constant reassurance that the conflict has been resolved and that we are OK. I am exhausting. God bless Gene, right? Fortunately, Gene and I rarely argue, and I am not just saying that for the sake of this public forum. The majority of our stressors come from outside our relationship, not from within.
I don't do ghosting. If we have been close and I am going to remove you from my life, you will know why. I also won't carry the poisonous baggage of resentment with me when I go. If I am setting healthy boundaries with you, that means I am not dwelling on you. That's no way to move forward, and I am greatly invested in moving forward to become more fully the person I'm meant to be.
All this to say -- yeah, I really don't get the silent treatment. I am also a firm believer that if you want to know how someone feels about you, just pay attention to their actions. The silent treatment, as defined above, is a red flag, emblazoned with the words, "You don't matter to me" on it. And I will never understand that. Never.
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