Let’s talk about blocking. You know, that little button that somehow holds all the power of therapy, meditation and a yoga retreat combined. Because here’s the thing: blocking isn’t just a social media action. It’s an act of self-care, a way to keep your sanity in a world where people you’re trying to leave behind keep popping up like a whack-a-mole game.
Why are we willing to risk our peace just to keep tabs on people who are no longer in our lives?
Take my friend, for example. She’s got a borderline obsession with her old best friend — you know, the kind that started off with matching necklaces and ended in a dramatic, don’t-speak-my-name-or-even-look-at-me kind of way. But rather than move on, she’s been watching (yes, watching!) her old bestie’s social media like it’s some new reality show.
And of course, her ex-best friend, sensing the audience, posts these passive-aggressive things that are basically an emotional buffet for my friend to devour with both hands. I keep telling her, “Girl, BLOCK. Think of it as hitting the mute button on toxic reruns.” But does she listen? No. Instead, she keeps scrolling, hoping maybe the next post will hurt less. Spoiler alert: it won’t.
Then there’s my almost relationship friend. You know the one — they’ve broken up, gotten back together, almost made it official, broken up again… and she insists she’s done this time. Only, every few days, he sends a “just checking in” text, and suddenly she’s thrown back into the almost-relationship vortex. I’ve lost track of the number of times I’ve told her, “Hit. The. Block. Button.” But she always says, “I’ll just ignore him.”
Spoiler alert No. 2: ignoring does not work when your thumb has the muscle memory of opening his messages.
The problem is, we have too much access to each other these days. Think about it. In the past, when a friendship or relationship ended, the hardest part was avoiding bumping into them at the grocery store. Now, it’s like they’re living in our phones, constantly one swipe away.
It’s not normal. We’re not supposed to have this much visibility into each other’s lives, especially when the relationship is over. It’s exhausting, like trying to keep a wound from healing by poking at it every few days.
And I’ll be real with you—blocking isn’t always easy. I was recently blocked by someone myself, and let me tell you, it stings! One minute you’re scrolling along, minding your business, and the next, you’re hit with the digital version of a door slamming in your face. Ouch.
It’s the ultimate shutdown, a hard goodbye. I used to think being blocked was petty, like the grown-up version of taking back your friendship bracelet. But now, I kind of get it. Blocking isn’t always about ending things with someone else—it’s about protecting yourself from the places you keep stumbling back to.
Let’s be real—blocking someone isn’t as simple as it sounds. For something that takes just one tap, it feels way more complicated. You’d think hitting the block button would be a quick fix, like ripping off a Band-Aid, but in reality, it’s like trying to move a mountain.
Why? Because blocking someone, especially someone who once meant something to us, feels final. It’s like officially admitting they’re no longer a part of our lives and there’s no lingering chance they’ll pop back in with some “hope you’re well” text that’s equally as pointless as it is gut-wrenching.
Blocking comes with its own emotional tug-of-war. On one side, there’s that tiny, logical voice in your head saying, “You’ll feel so much better if you just block them.” But on the other side, there’s the part of you clinging to what-ifs and memories. Blocking can feel like the ending of a chapter, but it’s usually more like the closing of a book, the slamming of a door. Somehow, we think leaving it slightly open keeps us in control when, really, it’s just keeping us stuck.
And let’s face it—there’s something weirdly satisfying about knowing we could check in on them if we wanted. It’s like peeking through a window to see if they’ve somehow miraculously changed, apologized or fallen apart without us.
But all we end up doing is reopening old wounds and torturing ourselves. Blocking is tough because it means surrendering that little ounce of control, trusting that moving forward without their updates and their drama will bring more peace than pain.
So why are we so afraid to block? Why does it feel like such a harsh move when all it’s doing is helping us take back a little headspace? Are we just addicted to the drama of it all? Or is it that, deep down, we’re not ready to let go of the people who hurt us?
At some point, maybe we need to realize that blocking isn’t petty—it’s self-respect in the age of social media. So, what’s stopping you from blocking that ex, that ex-bestie, or even the almost-someone who keeps popping up in your notifications? Are we brave enough to hit that button, or are we secretly hoping they’ll keep showing up?
Confessions of a Hot Mess is the personal work of Emily Hess. The opinions expressed in this column, as well as those published in The Nevada Sagebrush, are solely those of the author and do not necessarily reflect the views of The Sagebrush or its staff. Hess is a student at the University of Nevada studying journalism. She can be reached at em*******@***********nr.edu and on Twitter @emilyghess3.
