Silent treatment in relationships is something I fall back into like an old bad habit even though I swear every time “this is the last one.”
Right now it’s 1:30-something in the afternoon in Faridabad time but my brain is still running on Pacific time because I stayed up doom-scrolling Reddit threads about “my partner won’t talk to me” until 4 a.m. My room smells like yesterday’s chai gone cold and burnt toast. Classic.
When I dish out the silent treatment (and why I think it’s secretly about fear)
It usually starts small. They say something that hits a nerve → my throat closes → I decide “they clearly don’t get it so why waste oxygen explaining.”
Last month I did it over something stupid: he left dishes in the sink again after I’d asked three times that week. Instead of saying “hey this actually bothers me a lot,” I just… went radio silent for the whole evening. Put headphones in, stared at my laptop, answered in one-word grunts when he tried talking. Felt powerful for maybe eleven minutes. Then felt like garbage for the next nine hours.
I read somewhere on Psychology Today that The silent treatment in relationships is a form of control when you feel powerless. That one stung because yeah… that’s exactly what it is for me.
Getting hit with it feels like slow suffocation
Two years back (different relationship, same patterns) my then-girlfriend went silent for almost three full days after I cancelled plans to help a friend move. No warning, no “I’m upset,” just cold shoulder so intense the apartment literally felt ten degrees colder.
I remember standing in the kitchen trying to make small talk about dinner while she chopped vegetables like she was auditioning for a slasher film. The only sound was the knife hitting the cutting board. Thwack. Thwack. Thwack. I started crying in the bathroom later and hated myself for it.
There’s this really good Gottman article on stonewalling that says it’s one of the four biggest predictors a relationship is heading for trouble. Reading that felt like getting a progress report that says “F- but keep trying lol.”
My half-baked theories on why we keep doing this dumb thing
- I think if I stay quiet long enough they’ll realize how wrong they are (spoiler: they usually just get confused and then mad)
- Silence feels safer than saying vulnerable stuff out loud
- Sometimes I’m genuinely too overwhelmed to find words and silence is the only thing that comes out
- Low-key addicted to the drama of the eventual make-up (gross, I know)
I’m not proud of any of this.
Stuff I’m actually trying (with mixed results, let’s be real)
- Saying “I’m too activated to talk nicely right now—can we pause for 30?” → works maybe half the time
- Writing the angry text in Notes app then deleting it → helps more than I want to admit
- Asking for a do-over sentence: “Hey that came out wrong, can I try again?” → surprisingly effective when I remember to do it
- Reading this short piece on repair attempts and actually bookmarking it so I don’t lose it again
Recognizing PTSD Triggers: Key Strategies for Management
(Scene evoking high activation / stress in a family/relationship context — a visual reminder of what it feels like before using one of these tools)
Female Hormone Balancing: Infinite Wellness Therapy in IL
The embarrassing parking-lot ending (true story, happened last week)
Gave him the The silent treatment in relationships because he was late picking me up from the metro station. Like 14 minutes late. I sat on the curb spiraling into every abandonment fear I’ve ever had. When he finally pulled up I didn’t speak the whole ride home. Got to the flat, slammed the door (quietly, because I’m passive-aggressive, not cartoonish), locked myself in the bedroom.
Ten minutes later he knocks and just says “I’m sorry I was late. Traffic was insane and my phone died. I should’ve texted from the car charger before I left.” And I instantly felt like the biggest asshole on earth.
