Dear Joely: Exit Group?
Dear Joely,
I’ve been added to a school WhatsApp group and I already hate it.
I know it’s meant to be useful, and sometimes it is, but most of the time it’s just endless messages about things that don’t seem to require that many messages. Every day there’s somebody asking something that has already been answered, or reminding everyone about something, or sending a stream of updates about snacks, costumes, pick-up times, forms, or who’s bringing what.
What gets me is that I can’t tell whether I’m being unreasonable or whether everyone else is just pretending this is normal. Some of the women in it seem to live there. They’re constantly replying, offering to do things, thanking each other, sending little kisses at the end of every message, and somehow making quite ordinary school admin feel like a full-time emotional ecosystem. I find it exhausting.
There’s also a certain tone in there that gets under my skin. It’s all very friendly on the surface, but I can never quite shake the feeling that there’s competition and judgement bubbling away underneath. I don’t want to be rude, and I don’t want to look unfriendly, but I also don’t want to spend my life reading forty-three messages about a missing drink bottle.
Is it acceptable to mute it, ignore most of it, or even leave altogether, or is that social suicide?
Signed,
One Ping from Murder
Dear One Ping,
The first thing I want you to know is that you are not oversensitive. You are having an entirely normal reaction to being trapped in a digital village square with no closing time.
WhatsApp groups of this sort are a very modern species of suffering. They begin in usefulness and end in low-grade occupation. A quick note about sports day becomes a hundred and forty-seven messages, three theories, one volunteer spreadsheet, and an undercurrent of feminine territorial warfare thinly disguised as helpfulness.
You are not obliged to enjoy this simply because it involves children and snack-sized administrative duties. Nor are you required to mistake access for intimacy. These groups create the illusion that because people can reach you instantly, they are therefore entitled to do so constantly. They are not.
Now, as to what to do. I would not dramatically leave unless you are genuinely prepared to be talked about by women in activewear for a fortnight. The elegant answer is almost always the less theatrical one. Mute the group. Archive it if necessary. Turn off previews. Remove it from the front of your mind and let the urgent things surface by other means, as truly urgent things usually do.
And if someone asks why you are a little quiet, you may say, perfectly pleasantly, that you are trying to spend less time on your phone. This has the additional advantage of sounding virtuous while being entirely self-protective.
What you must not do is get drawn into the false morality of constant responsiveness. There is a particular kind of social nonsense that thrives on women feeling they must always appear agreeable, available, and faintly delighted to help. It is a racket. Step outside it where you can.
You do not need to surrender your peace over a visor, a raffle roster, or twelve messages about whether Friday is mufti. Keep your manners, keep your distance, and keep the group on mute.
Yours, on mute,
Joely