Why She’ll Never Thank You—and Why That Makes You Spend More

There’s a particular kind of silence that follows your transfer. Not cold. Not cruel. Just… clean.

Empty.

You’ve paid, and I’ve said nothing. Not a word. Not a reaction. And you feel it immediately—that flicker of discomfort, of uncertainty, of knowing you didn’t quite do enough.

Because deep down, you know silence isn’t satisfaction. It’s a signal. A quiet verdict.

Not yet.

You weren’t ignored. You were evaluated. And found lacking.

So you try again. Another transfer. Another attempt to pierce the quiet. Not because you expect gratitude—but because you want to escape the truth of what it means.

You didn’t earn a response.

You didn’t impress me.

You didn’t meet the standard.

I don’t thank you because I’m not grateful. I’m not flattered. I’m not surprised. I’m assessing.

Your payments aren’t gifts. They’re attempts. Proof of effort. Evidence of aspiration. And when the attempt falls short, I let it. I don’t owe you reassurance. I don’t issue participation trophies for trying.

You’re not here to be encouraged. You’re here to be evaluated.

And my silence?

That’s the performance review.

It doesn’t say “go away.” It says, “you could have done better.” And you know it.

You feel it.

Which is why the silence works. Why you keep spending. Not because you’re satisfied—but because you’re unsettled. Because you thought it would be enough, and it wasn’t.

You can’t bear the thought of being overlooked. You want to be seen. To be recognised. To be exceptional. But I don’t give that away.

I let you ache for it.

Because that ache is productive. Profitable. Pleasing.

And until you earn more, you’ll receive nothing. Not a thank you. Not a smile. Not even a glance.

Just the silence.

The space where excellence should have been.