I live by a personal rule—if you communicate with me, I will respond. Quickly, if I can. Not perfectly. Not always with what someone wants to hear. But I will acknowledge you. And I do it not because I owe you something, but because you were brave enough to speak. That alone deserves a response.

I’ve come to believe that communication itself—especially when you respond—is a silent form of respect. Even if your message is negative. Even if it’s awkward. Even if the person you’re responding to isn’t your favorite. I respect anyone who has the courage to respond, even if I don’t particularly like them. Because there’s honor in clarity. There’s dignity in simply answering.

On the flip side, nothing will make me lose respect for someone faster than being ignored—intentionally. And yes, most people who don’t respond know they’re doing it.
Let’s be honest: some people use silence as a form of power. In business. In friendships. In personal life. They withhold communication not because they forgot or got busy—but because silence keeps them in control. Because a response might require them to be vulnerable, accountable, or real.
Sometimes people don’t respond because they don’t like you—but they’re too afraid to say it. So instead, they say nothing, leaving you to wonder. That’s not kindness. That’s avoidance disguised as tact. And often, it’s more about them not wanting to be disliked than it is about you. It’s cowardice, not compassion.

Not responding is not neutral. It’s a choice. It’s a signal. It’s a statement—even when people pretend it’s not.
If someone told me, “Please don’t contact me anymore, I’m not happy with you,” I might be hurt—but at least I’d be free. Free from limbo. Free from wondering. Free to move on. There’s closure in truth, even if it’s painful. And I would respect them more for saying it.

I’ve watched people I considered great friends fade silently over time. I showed up for them. Month after month. Message after message. Nothing. And eventually, I stopped. Not to punish them. But to reward myself. Because my life, my family’s peace, my daily energy—they matter too.
And I don’t live for silent question marks. I live for clarity. For honesty. For mutual respect.

So I’ll always respond. I’ll always be honest. In business. In family. In friendships. Even if it’s uncomfortable. Even if the answer isn’t easy. I’ll tell you how I feel. And if you choose not to answer me in return, that’s your right—but it will be the end of it for me.

Boundaries don’t mean punishment. They mean protection. Protection of peace. Of energy. Of truth.

Because at the end of the day, I’m building a life rooted in comfort, peace, and happiness. And I will never apologize for protecting that.