I “Left the Group Chat": Why I Took The Leap and What I Learned
I’ve done it. I’ve left.
I’ve broken up with the group chat.
It wasn’t easy. We had good times. Clever one-liners. Late-night laughs and memorable memes. Collective rants that bonded us like strong, independent digital divas who didn’t need no man.
But it’s time.
Yes, humans are hard-wired to seek tribes. But here’s the thing: I’m not sure tribes were ever meant to live on WhatsApp or Facebook Messenger.
The Rise (‘n Grind) of Group Chats
Group chats come in all shapes and sizes. You’ve got the ones where everyone’s competing for the most crying-laughing-face emojis, the venting vaults for guilt-inducing gossip about people you don’t know enough about to have more compassion for. Not forgetting the obligatory “event planning” groups where you quietly resent the £500 hen do you can’t afford, let alone want to go to.
Then there are the group chats that are a sequel to other group chats and begin with an apology for another group chat. Still, the other group chat is about something separate that can’t possibly be discussed in the OG group chat for fear of confusion over the group chat's initial purpose.
The problem here is that once you’re in, you’re in. Your phone lights up at all hours. 6 AM right through to past midnight, pinging you into endless streams of who’s bringing what to the BBQ, how much people are willing to spend on secret fudging Santa, or what Fiona was thinking when she decided to cut her own fringe.
You’re too tired to reply to all of this. You’ve got ‘as per my previous’ emails to answer, Meta feeds filled with deals and discounts, paradoxical politics, negative news, and trips to Thailand to contend with.
PLUS, you didn’t sleep well last night ‘cause there was some commotion outside No.22. Though it settled down rather quickly, you stayed up reading the neighbourhood watch Whatsapp, saturated with speculation over what was ‘popping off.’ Turns out it was mainly your phone.
Leaving feels like stepping on a social landmine
Sure, you can turn off notifications and even archive the damn things. But with that comes notification-less neuroticism and ping-free paranoia; “did I miss something?”, “am I being talked about on the group chat for not replying?”, “am I more of an arse than the guy that ghosted one of the girls because I’m half a day late to the chorus of consolings?”
”Have I been booted from the birthday bonanza bottomless brunch group chat because I didn’t pop in my prosecco glass emoji and set menu order in time?’’’
For me, group chats, while at times helpful, rarely spark pleasure. Instead, they’ve become another layer of digital noise in an already overwhelmed world brimming with emails, notifications, and the existential dread of blue ticks left unanswered.
Disconnected Connection
Connection is hardwired into us. We flourish as tribes because they provide belonging and a shared purpose.
Sure, social media lets us stay “connected,” it’s even marketed that way, but it’s often connection-less. While research shows that in-person interactions release oxytocin - the love hormone - a WhatsApp group is more likely to trigger cortisol, the stress hormone. And rightly so.
“What do I reply?”
“If I don’t reply immediately, will I upset them or look ignorant?”
“Why haven’t they responded?!”
“Why was her response ‘hearted’ and not mine?”
“What did that message mean?”
And that’s what is missing. Meaning. That sense of belonging you get from a heartfelt conversation over coffee or the belly laughs from a dinner date with your mates. The actual shoulder to cry on. The warmth of a hug from a family member.
Instead, group chats give us an endless scroll of half-engaged replies, cop-out memes and too-busy-to-really-think-about-it-right-now responses.
Why I left and what I learned
I hear you - how would we get together without the WhatsApp group? It's easier and more efficient to pop it in the group chat rather than send individual messages.
Yes, they have their uses - planning events, staying in touch across time zones, and sending a solid meme. But having 5 or 6 on the go? Too much. And don’t get me started on work group chats (in fact, I am pretty sure they are banned in some countries).
Very recently, I realised these endless notifications were more draining than dopamine-releasing. So, I went on a spree, leaving every group that didn’t benefit me.
I stuck around the WhatsApp group with my brothers and sister, my partner’s family chat (come on, I’m not a monster), and a third with five of the best girls in Bristol (who I no longer live near). Every now and then, we have a check-in and arrange a meet-up, and then we are quiet for a few weeks. If Carlsberg did group chats and all that.
A few months on, I can say I’ve gained a lot from the WhatsApp hop. More space for creativity and more time to focus on things that matter. Like writing this. One-to-one conversations with loved ones (yeah via WhatsApp, come on, I’m not perfect) - even just a quiet moment without my phone vibrating itself off the table.
I’ve lowered my screen time and committed to turning the phone off from 7 PM. Leaving the group chat has given me the courage and insight to have less phone time and more focus time.
So, if you’re feeling overwhelmed by the digital din, maybe it’s time to reevaluate your group chat memberships. Who knows? You might just find yourself with a little more time and a little less stress. A little less, at least.
Written by Chelsea Branch
Chelsea, 34, is a writer exploring the psyche, relationships with others and ourselves and the messy, beautiful journey of being human. She is currently juggling her online marketing business, blogs, multiple Google Drive folders with book ideas, a TV script and poetry—all the things writers will get around to doing. Through her relatable ramblings, she hopes to bring laughter, hope and healing. Find her on Instagram @chelseabwrites.
