Dear Person Who I Am Not Talking To: An Open Letter

Why I am Writing This

Someone recently complimented me for being very intentional with my words. I thanked them for noticing. But, when I did, I was reminded of how I developed this habit. This caused a twinge of grief for my child self who became hyper-vigilant on the words I used because I didn’t know better than to not take responsibility for something that I had no control over.

Below, I explain how I became hyper-vigilant. But, before I invite you to read this account, I want to share why I even putting this letter out into the world.

A lot of people don’t know this. But, I largely write as a way of keeping myself accountable to the person I intend to be. It is like a public record of what I stand for. And even though it is not meant to keep me static, I know that if anyone ever says to me, “You wrote this and expressed…” I can’t deny it. I have to just confront it.

And because of my hyper vigilance, I never put anything out in the world that I am not willing to stand behind or wrestle with if I evolve into a new way of thinking. That’s why thousands and thousands of pages that I’ve written have never seen the light of day. If you see something I wrote, you can know that I thought about the implications of it deeply.

Watch Your Words

When I was about seven years old, I went on a job with my mom’s boyfriend at the time. He was a fence builder named Chico, and he took me along partly as a favor to my mom, but also to bond with me while helping him build fences.

On the way to the job, we were passed by some young white men in a sports car. Chico called the truck we were driving “Old Blue”. It was an old, raggedy Chevy pickup weighed down with fencing materials and slightly leaning to the side. As they sped past us, they laid on the horn and yelled, “Your truck is a piece of shit, you nigger.”

Even as a child, something in me erupted. Chico was such a sweet man, and it angered me that they would speak to him like that. So from the depths of my little heart, I said with deep conviction, “I hope they crash.” And wouldn’t you know it, a few seconds later they crashed into the median and hit a sign. As we drove past them, I had a smile on my face.

But Chico looked at me in shock and yelled, “Wait a minute. What was that? What did you do? How did you do that?”

I never thought I had done anything. I just thought they deserved it, and then it happened. I was simply satisfied to witness it.

Unfortunately, Chico was a little superstitious, and he believed I had somehow caused it. He told my mom, and said he was afraid of me. Knowing that I couldn’t do what he was suggesting, I expected my mom to defend me—to say there was no way I could have made that happen. But instead, she yelled at me:

“I told you your words have power. You shouldn’t say things you don’t want to happen. Why would you do that? You’ could’ve killed them. And God would not be happy.”

Well, needless to say that messed me up. Even though I felt those guys deserved what happened for calling us niggers for no reason, I also took on a deep sense of responsibility from that moment forward. From then until well into my late 30s and early 40s, I became extremely vigilant about the words I used.

Even after I was in my teens and I intellectually realized that coincidences happen in life and there were several factors that contributed to the crash, such as them erratically speeding off after they yelled at us, I still was super careful. I knew that saying something before something happens does not mean you caused it. But, the habit was already deeply formed. So, it shaped how I communicated for decades.

As a result, I often avoided responding to people in the moment when emotions were high. Instead, I would write my thoughts out, revise them, and carefully perfect what I wanted to say before saying anything. It frustrated a lot of people–especially romantic partners. It probably looked like hesitation or avoidance to some people, but it was less about not wanting to speak and more about not wanting to say something harmful, careless, or irreversible. I treated conversations like championship games, practicing and planning the interactions out multiple times before I took the shot. I thought it was “the way to be”.

It wasn’t until around 2022, after resigning from my role as a pastor, that I really began reflecting on the burden of holding myself to that standard. So often I would leave conversations carrying the weight of other people’s harmful words—comments that were offensive, dehumanizing, or dismissive of my humanity. I wasn’t a punk. I just was doing my best to speak intentionally. And because I had this reputation for being measured, if I ever did slip and just say something that any other person could get away with, it would hit harder and folks would assume that I meant every word. So, even when I felt justified in my anger or hurt, I still believed I needed to be extraordinarily careful with my response because it was very hard from others to recover if I said something that threw them off.

Eventually I felt trapped in my habit of slowing myself down, scouring my thoughts, writing, and making sure every word was measured. Honestly, I wanted to cuss some people out. But instead, I decided to purge folks who would not be able to handle the shifts I was making and start my expression journey anew. I spent decades teaching myself how to communicate and who not to talk to. I am now ready for something different.

These days, I’m trying to become more intentional not just about how I communicate, but about who I communicate with. I no longer want to consistently place myself in environments that pull those feelings out of me—spaces where I feel the need to walk away and process every interaction like a legal document before I can respond honestly.

I still value careful communication as a skill. In professional settings, it is absolutely something I can and will deploy. But in my everyday life, I want to cultivate relationships that align more naturally with my deepest intentions and values.

This letter is part of that process.

And while I have been intentional with every word here, I am also using this as a kind of declaration. For the first forty-plus years of my life as a communicator, I became very clear about who I did not want to talk to, while becoming far less clear about who I did want to talk to.

Now I want to reverse that.

I want to become deeply clear about who I want to build with, speak with, create with, and grow with—and then spend the rest of my life surrounding myself with those people.

So if you are someone who resonates with how I express myself, I hope you find something meaningful here. And if you are someone who does not resonate with how I’m trying to show up in the world, I honestly hope you never even saw this piece. But if you did see this and you feel this is probably a good place to stop reading.

My Open Letter

Dear Person Who I Am Not Talking To:

I release you. Will you release me too? I have come to a place where I think it would be better for all of us if we forget each other exists. But, because completely forgetting is probably not possible without death, let’s just try to see how our lives will be if we ignore each other as much as possible. Preferably forever. I don’t have a problem with that. I hope you don’t either. All of my life I have tried to honor how you show up while avoiding you as much as possible. But, if you remember correctly, I have also invited you to simply go away and save us both some trouble. And the problem, as I see it, is you just won’t accept the offer. Recently, it just hit me that perhaps it is because I never asked you kindly. So I am asking you now. Will you please go away and try erasing me from your memory as I begin the process of erasing you?

Believe me when I say that I believe this is the best for the both of us. I know that one of the things you hate the most is being ignored. And so, even though you know that I am not talking to you, you continue to show up and inject yourself into my conversations. But, I want to suggest that you try being okay with the fact that you are just not everyone’s cup of tea. I’m sure there are people who light up when they see you. But, I’m not one. And it’s okay. I accept that there are probably many other people who want to be done with me as much as I want to be done with you. I am perfectly fine with it. Can you be as well?

The difference between you and me, however, is that you keep “unwelcomely” coming to me and telling me what you don’t like or agree with about what I am saying or expressing. And then when I accept your assessment and try to move on, that’s not good enough for you. You want me to understand your feelings about why you disagree with me. You want me to accept that you are right and then convert me to your position as if you need my validation and my acquiescence or think I should want yours. Why? Aren’t you the self-sufficient one. Why do you care what I think? And why do you think I need to care what you think? Why not just be satisfied with your own internal sense of rightness, then leave me alone, and just let me talk to the people I am addressing and depart from me.

But, before you say anything, know that every question that I am asking in this letter is rhetorical. I really don’t have any interest in knowing why you do anything or think anything because I truly am not talking to you. In fact, I am not talking to you so much that even though this letter is addressed to you, I hope you are not reading it. I am really just writing this for other people who have to deal with the likes of you so they have a template to ask people like you to go away as well. But, if you are still reading this because you just can’t accept that I am not talking to you, at least skip commenting. Because, as I said, I really am disinterested in you and your thoughts. I only wish that you were as disinterested in me as you pretend to be. Unfortunately, I don’t know if you are capable.

In my experience, you have always been up my butt caring about what I do or think and telling me what you think even when I didn’t ask or give you any indication that I gave a damn. And even when I have gone to extremes to get away from you, you always find me like some obsessed stalker. You are like a thief who pretends to have earned your spoils. You have fooled so many people that you almost believe the lie that you earned it yourself. But, knowing that your gains are ill-gotten, you are always on the lookout for someone to incriminate you. And, because you know I know your secret, you are always watching me and trying to discredit me before I can discredit you.

Well, here’s the thing you haven’t noticed because you refuse to go away; I don’t pursue you. I know you. I know what you’ve done. And as you will see if you would just go away, I don’t care what you have done or what you will do as long as you stay away from me. However, you wouldn’t know that would you? That’s because you are always pursuing me and trying to get me to engage. It’s annoying. And, it’s so obvious that you’re concerned that, as soon as you turn your back on me as I am asking you to do, that’s when I will turn around and get you like you have done to me. I assure you I won’t. I really just look forward to your silence.

I Take Full Responsibility

Let me make a deal with you. To sweeten the pot, I will take full responsibility for everything in our relationship up to this point. I am totally fine with you thinking every horrible thing you have had to think about me and people like me to make you feel safe up to this point. YOU WERE RIGHT ABOUT ME!!! OK. Now that we got that out of the way, let me apologize for inconveniencing you with my existence for so long. I repent. Which basically means “turn around and go in a different direction.” Now, the direction I am going is away from you. Please don’t follow me. Just accept this gift of my apology and repentance and go on your way to wherever makes you feel happy—as long as it is not the same place I am going.

Better Apart

Let me add to my apology, that I am sorry for all of the times that I listened to you and tried to see things from your perspective. I see now that from your point of view that it may have felt like I was leading you on—as if I was just a conversation away from being converted. I really wasn’t. It’s just that for a long time I have had this habit of thinking through my thoughts and opinions and trying to understand other’s and my own core motivations in the effort of becoming a more compassionate human being. But egoistically, even though you never demonstrated that you were doing anything besides shaming and blaming others for any discomfort you might feel or justifying your complete lack of relational depth and diminished relational capacity for anyone who does not agree with you, I thought that “deep down” you were trying. I never should have put that on you. I was wrong and I free you from my expectations. I should have respected your right to be shallow and only think about yourself and those you use to validate your existence.

From now on, I will no longer say things like “better together” without the caveat, “Some of us…” “Some of us are better together.” And, some of us are better apart, like folks like you and me. Aaaahhhh! Doesn’t it just feel good to admit that? Again, that’s a rhetorical question, if you are someone I am not talking to. So, don’t answer me. You agreeing with me doesn’t make me feel anything. I am really just asking people with the following characteristics:

1. Empathy

• What It Means: The ability to genuinely understand and share the feelings of others.
• How It Manifests: They listen to others without judgment, seeking to understand emotions and perspectives, even when they differ from their own. Empathy allows them to connect deeply and respond with care.

2. Humility

• What It Means: Acknowledging one’s limitations and being open to learning from others.
• How It Manifests: They are comfortable admitting when they do not know something and view mistakes or gaps in knowledge as opportunities for growth rather than failures.

3. Active Presence

• What It Means: Being fully engaged and attentive in the moment.
• How It Manifests: They give their full attention to the person they are engaging with, avoiding distractions and focusing on what is being said, both verbally and nonverbally. Their presence makes others feel seen and valued.

4. Curiosity

• What It Means: A deep desire to learn, understand, and explore new ideas and perspectives.
• How It Manifests: They ask thoughtful questions, seek diverse viewpoints, and remain open to ideas that challenge their existing beliefs. They prioritize learning for personal growth and communal betterment.

5. Commitment to Action

• What It Means: A willingness to translate insights and lessons into meaningful changes in behavior or practice.
• How It Manifests: They take what they’ve learned through listening and reflection and apply it to improve themselves and contribute positively to their community. This characteristic ensures their growth is not just intellectual but also practical and impactful.

So, if none of these sound like you and they are not even aspirations that you have, consider yourself someone who I am not talking to. And, if you are looking at this list and having read my letter feel like I, myself, seem to lack some of these characteristics, let me first say, you may be on to something. I will take that into consideration and have done so by the fact that I can anticipate someone suggesting this. Secondly, if you are someone who exhibits all of these characteristics, that means you are someone I would talk to. Therefore, I will take what you have to say into account and learn from you. And lastly, if you are thinking of calling me out and you are someone who I am not talking to anyway, please remember my request that you not comment and just ignore me. Why have you read this far anyway? And don’t answer that. It is rhetorical, remember? And don’t answer that either.

Conclusion

To my real audience, whoever you are. I decided to write this piece after several longtime friends shared with me at a memorial service for one of the best people I’ve known that they read almost everything that I used to write on Facebook. They said that even though they don’t always comment, like, or even share what I write, they actually got a lot out of it and missed it. But, since the election, I basically stopped writing long pieces up there largely because some people who had a problem with what I wrote felt that by virtue of me writing publicly, I was inviting in their responses. And to some degree, I agreed with them. So, since I didn’t feel like engaging with them anymore, I stopped writing altogether until I joined Substack. I realize now that I shouldn’t have stopped because I wasn’t writing for them anyway. We live and learn right? Well, at least some of us do.

Since I was a pastor for 14 years, I have heard a lot of comments from people—some extremely vile, simply because folks didn’t agree with my positions. And most of those positions were about inclusion, deep listening to people across differences, and even a concept I described as “listening THROUGH what people are saying and not simply listening TO what they seemed to be saying.” And as you can imagine, this tactic was applied mostly to some of the most intolerant people among us. Some of whom said things and posted things that were needlessly disparaging and threatening even about my children. But, I have decided that from now on, I will only apply this to people who have demonstrated some capacity for reciprocity. And my suggestion to anyone who I am actually talking to is that you do the same.

Of course I understand that for some of you, distancing yourself from people who have no capacity for reciprocity may seem too difficult for a whole lot of reasons. I respect that and have been there. So to you, I suggest that—at a minimum—you reserve giving too much of your energy to folks like those who I am not talking to. Find ways to build yourself up before encounters with them and find ways to recover afterwards. You do not owe it to anyone to be for them what they cannot or will not be for themselves or others. Nor do you need to take abuse disguised as positional passion.

My take is that too many of us have become enablers unknowingly. Actually that was a criticism that someone had of me in the past. Since I was a pastor, I thought I was just doing my job to listen. But, looking back, I can at least admit that they were possibly onto something. However, in this season of mass hypocrisy, whether I was doing my job then or being an enabler is irrelevant. What I know now is that I am not here for everyone and I am not trying to be. My intent is to simply stay in my IDEALS and serve others who aspire to live into theirs. Everyone else, I am not talking to you.