Please Don’t Call Me

(Unless you’re amazing or genuinely need to work with me…then okay, maybe.)

I don’t like phone calls.

That’s the short version.
The longer version? Well, let’s just say this post has been a long time coming.

Lately, I’ve been trying to organise quotes from a tradesperson — and despite clearly requesting email responses, they kept trying to call me. Multiple times. And I get it, that’s just how some people operate. But for me, it immediately triggered that sinking feeling: the one where I know I’ll sound less confident, more flustered, and less like the version of myself I actually am.

Because here’s the thing:
I think better in writing.
I process better in writing.
And honestly, I function better in writing.

Phone calls, for me, come with a weird kind of performance pressure. There’s no time to pause, no space to reread what someone said, no way to breathe and think before responding. There’s just… noise. And urgency. And me second-guessing how I came across long after I’ve hung up.

Once, in a marketing job, I was offered “the opportunity” (insert eye roll here) to earn extra commission by picking up sales calls. It wasn’t a pay rise — just extra pressure. And even though I didn’t want to do it, I ended up doing very well.

Why?
Because I knew the product inside out.
I’d organised the research.
I’d checked the methodology.
I even wrote the sales pack the actual sales team was using.

So yes, I earned good commission.
And no, I never want to do it again.

Not because I wasn’t capable — but because that kind of communication drains me.
Even doing well didn’t make it sustainable. It just confirmed that being good at something doesn’t mean it’s a good fit.

Even in personal life, phone calls aren’t my default.
When we bought our house recently, I made my husband be our phone person. He took the calls. I wrote the emails (and his texts) and I researched the process. I understood the negotiation, the legalities, the budget. It was just that I didn’t want to do the live human interaction bit with the vendor’s agent.
Interestingly, I was fine with talking to our lawyer. Maybe because we’d hired them. Maybe because it wasn’t a performative “sell.” But the difference was noticeable.

It’s not that I can’t communicate. I just need a different medium.
I prefer to write.

When it comes to family or friends? Same thing.
If I don’t answer, it’s probably not about you.
It’s about me being in the middle of something, or needing more mental prep, or just not having the energy to shift gears into chat mode.
I often forget to call back — not because I don’t care, but because “call so-and-so” disappears into the crowd of other open tabs in my brain.

Also — and I’m not even being dramatic here — I don’t always know how to end a phone call.
Do I just… say “bye”?
Do we linger awkwardly?
Should I wait for them to hang up first?
It’s a whole thing.

So yeah, my phone is on silent about 99% of the time.
Not because I’m mysterious or important.
Just because my nervous system thanks me for it.

If you’re amazing, or someone genuinely interested in working with me, I’ll absolutely make the exception.
But if it’s something that can be emailed?
Please. Just email.

A topic for next time…
I’m also not a fan of listening to voicemails, and I’m not alone, read what ADDitude have to say about it.

Do you struggle time blindness? Check out my post about it here.