What Self-Respect Looked Like for Me in the Talking Stage

 

I used to shrink myself just to keep the conversation going. But self-respect taught me to stop begging for effort and start choosing peace, even in the talking stage.

I Used to Settle for Bare Minimum Attention

I used to wait hours for a reply and still get excited when he finally texted, “hey.”

I told myself it was normal. That he was just busy. That maybe if I stayed easy to talk to and didn’t pressure anything, he’d start to see me as someone worth choosing.

But what I didn’t realize back then was that I was shrinking. I was ignoring my own needs just to keep someone interested.

Now I know this: the way someone talks to you at the start often tells you everything about how they’ll treat you later.

Self-respect doesn't begin in a relationship. It begins the moment you stop begging for clarity and start listening to how you feel.

Here’s what I had to learn the hard way.

1. I Stopped Forcing the Conversation

Self-respect looked like not begging for words.

I used to overcompensate for his silence. If he replied dry, I’d reply excited. If he didn’t ask questions, I’d double up just to keep things alive. I thought silence meant I wasn’t doing enough, so I tried harder.

But real connection doesn’t need chasing.

What I started doing instead:

• If he stopped replying, I stopped texting.
• If I felt the energy shift, I didn’t force it back.
• I let silence be silence, and I watched what that silence revealed.

If you're always the one trying to keep it going, ask yourself why. A person who is genuinely interested won't leave you guessing all the time.

2. I Realized Consistency Isn't Too Much to Ask For

I used to believe that wanting regular replies or effort made me clingy. But it doesn't. It makes you emotionally aware.

What changed for me:

• I stopped romanticizing effort that came once a week.
• I stopped calling it mystery when it was really just a lack of interest.
• I learned to appreciate consistency and stopped confusing it with boredom.

Someone showing up for you regularly is not overwhelming. If someone calls consistency too much, what they really mean is they are not ready for it. And that’s not your job to fix.

3. I Paid Attention to How I Felt, Not Just How They Acted

I used to base everything on their vibe. Are they replying today? Are they dry? Are they busy? I never paused to check in with myself.

So I started asking:

• Do I feel anxious more than I feel secure?
• Am I constantly adjusting my energy to match theirs?
• Am I enjoying this, or just afraid to lose it?

Your peace matters more than their potential. If the talking stage is making you question your worth more than it makes you feel seen, take a step back. You are allowed to protect your peace from the beginning.

4. I Stopped Pretending I Was Okay With Less

I used to laugh off things that bothered me. I wanted to seem easy. I didn’t want to be dramatic. But every time I ignored something small, I was quietly telling myself my needs didn’t matter.

What I started doing:

• I said things like “That doesn’t really work for me” without guilt.
• I didn’t brush off red flags just to keep things going.
• I stopped adjusting to stay likable and started being honest.

You don’t have to wait for something serious to speak up. How someone reacts to your boundaries in the beginning will tell you if they are emotionally safe for you.

5. I Remembered I’m Not Here to Earn Love

This was the most healing part of it all.

I realized that love isn’t a reward for shrinking.

It isn’t something you earn by being chill, patient, or less emotional.

What I did instead:

• I stopped trying to be chosen and started choosing myself.
• I allowed myself to want something real, even if it scared someone away.
• I stopped calling my standards too high and started calling them mine.

If you have to work this hard just to be seen, it’s not love. It’s self-neglect. You’re not here to prove anything. The right person will not need convincing.

What I Know Now

The talking stage should feel like curiosity, not confusion.

It should feel like mutual effort, not one person trying to keep it alive.

It should feel like peace, not anxiety in disguise.

And self-respect? It’s not loud. It’s quiet. It’s that small voice that says, “You’re allowed to walk away from what doesn’t feel right, even if no one else understands why.”

So if you’re in the talking stage and wondering if you're asking for too much, maybe ask yourself this instead:

Am I receiving even the bare minimum of what I deserve?

Because sometimes, choosing yourself early on is the clearest form of love you'll ever give.