Availability is no longer a personality trait.

A while ago, a friend told me I should write down my thoughts about relationships—but delete them after I was done. As someone who has rarely held back from saying or writing what I’m thinking, that felt like suggesting I should think about oxygen but not draw a breath.

That said, there have been many times I’ve held myself back, thinking it was the right thing to do. It wasn’t. And it hasn’t gone well for anyone involved. So in true, authentic Storeystyle, I’m taking a different tack and moving into a new phase in life—with fewer, deeper connections, starting now.

I’m done with surface.

I’m done with relationships held together by nostalgia, proximity, or politeness. I’m done performing availability for people who don’t reciprocate presence. I’m done being admired but not included. Checked in on only when I’m useful. Spoken about, not spoken to.

If that sounds harsh, you haven’t been where I’ve been.

I’ve been generous with my time. Open with my energy. Willing to help anyone who asked—often before they asked. I’ve invited people into projects, ideas, opportunities, and momentum. I’ve offered clarity and care. I’ve extended trust.

What I’ve received in return has been inconsistent at best. Ghosted silence at worst. People like to say, “You’re someone I respect,” or “You always bring great perspective.” That’s great, but if that respect doesn’t translate into action, inclusion, or investment, I’ve learned—very much the hard way—to see it for what it is: comfort, not commitment.

Since the pandemic, our social contracts have frayed in ways we still don’t fully understand. Most folks in genpop have become weird with each other—super-hyper-transactional. Quiet quitting friendships. Withdrawing under the banner of “capacity.” Leaving texts and social questions unanswered.

And for those of us who kept showing up? We’ve been compensating. Over-giving. Over-extending. Over-explaining. Hoping someone, somewhere, might do the same for us in return.

I’m burnt from doing all the heavy emotional labor for a system that’s been breaking down in slow motion.

So I’m moving differently now.

I’m in—what the kids are calling—a “season” of fewer, deeper connections. That means less noise, more intention. Less reaction, more discernment. If you’re in my life—personally or professionally—you’re there because we both chose it. Not because it was convenient. Not because we’re from an age. Not because we once worked together. Not because we’ve been circling each other in digital orbit for the last twenty years.

If we’re not building something real—trust, momentum, collaboration, honesty—then I’m not interested in keeping the conversation going just to prove I’m still nice.

This season is for the ones who show up. The ones who ask how you’re doing without needing a reason. The ones who follow through. The ones who challenge you and stand beside you. The ones who don’t flinch when things get deep, complicated, or real.

Those are the connections worth keeping. Those are the ones I’m making space for now.