Is It Ever Okay to Break Up Over Text?

(Asking for a Generation)

When I was younger, getting ghosted by boys felt like emotional waterboarding with read receipts. It would confuse me, sting for days, and send me spiralling into “Why did he suddenly disappear?” and “Did I do something wrong?” territory. But at 14, I wasn’t just on the receiving end: I was also the one doing the damage.

My first high school boyfriend was… a lot. He’d follow me to the toilets and wait outside like a lost Victorian child. He’d sit with me and my friends at lunch, hovering like an overzealous chaperone. I felt trapped, so I did what any emotionally avoidant, conflict-fearing teenager would do: I sent him a breakup message. Short. Brutal. Not a hint of closure. Something like, I don’t want to be with you. Bye. And then, because I am nothing if not consistent, I removed him. No explanations. No aftercare. Just poof. Gone.

At the time, I didn’t bat an eyelid. He was devastated, and I felt relieved. It didn’t register as cruel—just efficient. But years later, at 23, I stumbled across him on a night out. Many drinks in, he recognised me, and before I could make a swift exit (because obviously), he hit me with, “Why did you do that? You just ended it with no why, no how. It really f*cked me up.” And that was the first time I actually thought about what I had done.

I had treated him like a bad Wi-Fi signal. Cut him off and moved on, while he was left buffering in confusion. And if I’m honest? That entire breakup screams my avoidant attachment style. The way I detach, the way I run, the way I disappear when something gets too much. And it’s why I don’t date. Why I don’t entertain men. Why I refuse to let someone get close enough for me to inevitably traumatise them. I hold myself accountable—because I know I’d struggle with this, and I refuse to make someone else the collateral damage of my unfinished emotional work.

But here’s the thing: while I haven’t broken up with someone over text as an adult, I have spent years encouraging friends to do it when they’ve needed an escape route. When they’ve been terrified to break things off in person. When they’ve felt trapped in a relationship with someone who didn’t take no for an answer. But every time I’ve hit send on that “Just tell him over text, he’ll get over it” advice, I’ve had the same internal argument with myself. Is it actually okay? Or is it just the path of least resistance?

The Art of Breaking Up in 4G

Here’s the thing… breakups have gone digital, and no one knows the rules. There was a time when dumping someone meant a face-to-face confrontation, maybe an awkward coffee meet-up, maybe a letter (Dear John, I hope this note finds you well. It does not find me well, for I no longer wish to be your girlfriend…). But now? It’s all WhatsApp ticks, disappearing iMessages, and the slow horror of watching someone update their Spotify bio but not reply to your breakup text. The relationship graveyard is less let’s meet in person and more let’s talk through three Instagram stories and a deactivated Facebook account. And honestly? It’s a logistical nightmare.

Ghosting is the most infamous offender. Poof! Gone! No explanation, no exit interview, no chance to throw in a “Was it something I said?” for closure. According to a 2022 survey, 25% of people have been ghosted, and most of them said it hurt more than a traditional breakup. (Which, I assume, is because humans… despite what the wellness girlies on TikTok say—are not designed to be left on read indefinitely.)

But let’s be real, ghosting is just the extreme version of breaking up over text. Both are about avoidance. Both say, I don’t want to deal with the discomfort of this conversation, so I will opt out of it entirely. And I get it. No one wants to have an in-person breakup—it’s painful, awkward, and involves eye contact. But are we all really too emotionally constipated to do it the old-fashioned way?

That said (because nuance exists, babes), not all breakup texts are created equal. There’s the casual situationship fade-out (“Hey, I don’t think this is working, take care”—a classic). There’s the word-vomit essay breakup (one where the Notes app got involved and, halfway through, you start trauma-dumping about your childhood).

And then, of course, there’s the cold, one-line executioner text (See: Me at 14. No frills, no explanations, just “Bye.”). Some are kinder than others. Some are just ghosting with extra steps. But the real question is: is it ever actually okay? Or are we just normalizing digital cowardice because it’s convenient?

Because let’s be real: breaking up over text is not just an individual choice, it’s a generational phenomenon. We’ve been raised in an era of left swipes, soft-launches, and quiet quitting. We’re used to slow fades and sudden vanishings. And we’re constantly walking this tightrope between not wanting to hurt someone and not wanting to deal with their feelings.

So where does that leave us? Are we evolving past traditional breakups, or are we all just emotional jellyfish, floating through the wreckage of our unread messages? (And more importantly, if breakups are digital now, does that mean I can invoice my ex for the therapy bill via Apple Pay? Asking for a friend.)

Is Breaking Up Over Text a Crime Or a Courtesy?

If you ask my Nan (who still believes in writing ‘Thank You’ notes and answering the landline), breaking up over text is “a disgrace”—a sign that my generation has the emotional depth of a wet tissue. In her day, breakups were serious. They involved tears, long walks, handwritten letters, and possibly a scene in a town square. My friends? More forgiving.

They acknowledge that sometimes, a phone call will do (though my best friend still believes dumping someone via SMS should be a legally punishable offense). And the rest of my generation? We’re just trying to survive. We’ve collectively decided that confrontation is an extreme sport and that if a conversation doesn’t need to happen in person, it won’t. (See also: job resignations, birthday wishes, and entire relationships.)

On one side of the argument, breaking up over text is cold, cowardly, and—let’s be honest—dehumanising. It strips away the nuance, the body language, the ability to say, Wait, what? Can we talk about this? Instead, you’re left staring at a paragraph (or worse, a single sentence) that dissolves your entire relationship in a matter of pixels.

It’s easy to feel like you were nothing more than a contact in someone’s phone—discarded as effortlessly as a muted WhatsApp chat. And if the relationship was meaningful? Ouch. That’s a digital slap in the face. (The only thing worse? A breakup text with zero punctuation. Nothing says ‘I feel nothing for you’ like a full stop where a comma should be.)

But then there’s the other side: the "breaking up over text is actually damage control" argument. Because let’s be open and honest, some relationships do not warrant an in-person farewell. If the dynamic was toxic, if the person was manipulative, if there was even a hint of physical or emotional danger, then sending a “This is over. Please respect that.” text is not just acceptable, it’s necessary.

Not everyone deserves access to your presence. And sometimes, sitting across from someone and seeing them cry, argue, or beg only prolongs the pain and makes it harder to leave. The idea that a breakup must be in person assumes that every relationship was healthy, balanced, and built on mutual respect—which, in many cases, it wasn’t.

And then there’s the middle ground—situationships, casual flings, long-distance relationships. Where do we draw the line? If you’ve only been seeing someone for a few weeks (but you’ve sent each other 800+ TikToks and trauma-bonded over childhood fears), do you owe them a sit-down chat? If someone lives in a different country, is it cruel to do it via text—or is a Zoom breakup the new long-distance equivalent of meeting up in person? And in an era where people go ghost mode instead of breaking up at all, shouldn’t we at least give some credit to those who send any kind of message instead of just vanishing?

At the end of the day, text breakups are the emotional equivalent of Marmite—some people think they’re disgusting, others think they’re perfectly fine (and then there’s me, who believes they should be judged on a case-by-case basis, like a weird courtroom drama). Is it cowardly? Sometimes. Is it practical? Also sometimes.

Maybe, instead of debating whether text breakups are inherently bad, we should be asking a different question: What’s more important—the method or the message? Because let’s be real—if someone is going to break up with you over text, would you reallywant them to do it in person? Or would that just be a longer, more agonising version of the same outcome? (And, crucially, will I ever be emotionally developed enough to answer my own question? Stay tuned.)

Final Say

At the end of the day, breakups are never easy—whether they happen over text, in person, or via a carrier pigeon with commitment issues. There’s no one-size-fits-all rule because relationships aren’t one-size-fits-all. Maybe the real takeaway here isn’t how we break up with people, but why we handle it the way we do. Whether it’s fear, self-preservation, or just the modern dating equivalent of fight-or-flight. So, should we all strive for more empathy, more closure, and fewer disappearing acts? Absolutely.

But also… if you’re going to dump someone over text, at least don’t end it with “take care” (the emotional equivalent of a pat on the head before you set someone on fire). So, tell me: Would you break up with someone over text? Be honest. No judgement (except maybe a little).