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There’s a new kind of heartbreak survival tactic doing the rounds on the internet, and no, it’s not crying to Taylor Swift or journaling under a full moon. It’s called No Contact. The rule is simple: no texting, no calling, no creeping on socials. A clean emotional detox. It’s meant to be empowering, a way to reclaim your energy after something messy, be it a situationship, a breakup, a friendship fallout, or just... closure that never came.
Online, people swear by it. "Thirty days no contact and I swear I don’t even remember what his voice sounds like,” writes one Instagram user, with thousands of likes rolling in. It’s become the ultimate mic-drop moment, like slamming the door but with digital finality.
But here’s my truth:
I’ve never actually been able to do it. Not properly. Not for real. Not as an adult. Not without checking "last seen" at 2 am, not without typing a message and never sending it, not without saving their contact under something dumb like “Do Not Text” (and still texting anyway).
The Case For No Contact
Let’s be honest, this isn’t just some Gen Z trend cooked up on Instagram. The roots of the No Contact Rule has roots in real psychology. Experts often recommend it as a way to reset boundaries, regain self-esteem, and avoid emotional spirals. For many, going no contact is about survival. “After three years of being on-again-off-again, I had to block him for my sanity. It wasn’t dramatic, it was necessary,” says Sakshi (name changed). “I went into no contact with my mum after years of emotional manipulation. People think it’s just romantic relationships, but it’s not,” shares anonymously.
Sometimes, it’s a quiet grief. “We were best friends for 10 years. However, she continued to cross lines and treat me like a placeholder. I didn’t announce it—I just stopped replying,” adds Drushti Sharma. These are the kinds of stories that flood Reddit threads and private DMs, people quietly choosing themselves over the chaos of an unresolved connection. Elite behaviour.
So Why Couldn’t I Do It?
Maybe it’s because I’m a sucker for hope. Or maybe I romanticise pain just a little too much. But every time I try to do the no-contact thing, I cave. There’s always a loophole: “I’ll just watch their story, that doesn’t count.” Or: “What if they’re going through something and need me?” I tell myself it’s compassion. But more often, it’s codependency in a prettier dress.
I envy people who can cut someone off cold turkey. I’ve drafted the goodbye text, practised the soft block, and deleted the pictures from my favourites. But then I remember the inside jokes. The Spotify playlists. The fact that I still remember their star sign. So instead of going no contact, I go low contact. Ghost lite, if you will. I don’t text, but I stalk. I don’t reach out, but I post stories hoping they’ll watch them. It’s pathetic, but it’s honest.
The Internet’s Obsession With Vanishing
What’s wild is how this entire thing has been aestheticised. You’ll find Pinterest quotes saying “Healing is not calling them back”, Instagram reels romanticising blocking someone with Lana Del Rey playing in the background, and even threads like “Day 45 of no contact: I am glowing.” It’s empowering, yes. But it’s also performative. For people like me—people who feel too much, people who confuse kindness with connection—going no contact isn’t just hard. It feels brutal. Like erasing someone from a diary you still read.
Maybe Next Time... Or Maybe Never
I wish I could wrap this up by saying I’ve learned to master no contact. I’ve blocked him, deleted everything, moved on, glowed up, healed. But that wouldn’t be true. I wish we weren't one of those couples that people look at and question.
What I have learned is this:
No contact isn’t just about cutting someone off. It’s about choosing yourself. Even if it takes you ten tries and a hundred unsent messages. Maybe one day I’ll be the girl who blocks and never looks back. For now, I’m still very much in contact... and learning to love and forgive myself for it.
Also Read:
What’s A Humiliationship? And Are You In One?
Why Going Back To An Ex Feels Like ‘Rewatching Comfort Shows’