I got some hard feedback recently—from more than one person.
Apparently… I’m not a great communicator.

Oof.
Right to the throat.

If you know me, you know this is the hill I would’ve sworn I could die on: going there, getting real, saying the thing. Depth is my love language.

So why am I suddenly the villain in a ghosting story?

Turns out: I cycle.
Not seasons or lunar phases (though, honestly, those too).
I mean cycles of overwhelm → shutdown → radio silence.

My excuses look reasonable on paper:

• Hundreds of emails

• 10+ voicemails a day (mostly spam)

• Group text threads that might actually kill me

• And the deep, primal desire to throw my phone into a river

But here’s what I saw this week—with help from my therapist, my wife, and one painfully honest yoga therapy session:

I’m not resourced. Because I don’t put myself first.

I handle every chore, errand, and family need before I let myself do anything for me.
“Put your oxygen mask on first” feels selfish.
Wrong.
Like bad citizenship.

But when I take care of everyone else first, I run out of gas.
And when I’m out of gas, I enter survival mode.

Survival mode Molly is… not peak Molly.

She gets critical.
She blames.
Her favorite refrain is: “You’re not doing enough.”

I get overwhelmed → I want others to do more.
But the truth is: I’m overwhelmed because I’m depleted.

And when I’m depleted, communication feels like an exam I didn’t study for.

That’s when I ghost.

Here’s the magic twist:
When I’m resourced, the exact same to-dos feel different.

I can text back.
I can return phone calls.
I even reach out first.

What fills me up?

• Movement

• Nature

• Writing

• Music

• Play

• Legos

• Sunshine

• Dogs (always dogs)

I stop for every dog I see.
I have full conversations with them.
Not one dog has ever complained about my communication.

When I do the things that nourish me, I show up differently.
When I don’t, I disappear.

My oxygen mask goes on first.
Even when it feels selfish.
Even when the world is loud.
Even when the to-do list gives me side-eye.

Because when I’m resourced, I’m me.
And when I’m me, I don’t ghost—I connect.

Maybe this resonates with you too.
Maybe you’re also doing everything for everyone else, and then wondering why you can’t answer a text.
Maybe ghosting isn’t avoidance.
Maybe it’s exhaustion.

If so, welcome to the club.
We’ll work on this together.

But first…
Let’s breathe.
Let’s fill up.
Let’s check our oxygen masks.