on Ghosting: An Exploration Into the Phenomenon of Our Generation
Ghosting—the act of suddenly and without explanation abandoning all communication with someone—is fucking real, and it’s happening everywhere, to seemingly everyone. The topic recently came up while I was out to dinner with some friends. We asked a buddy of mine if his girl was joining for an upcoming concert.
“We’re not talking anymore, I think.”
We pressed him on the issue, and he finally relented his silence and spilled the beans: “She straight up ghosted me.”
At that moment, it was most of our natural reaction to nod. Like 75% of the table nodded or looked down because each of us had been there before. So we talked about it. Maybe it was the vodka-sodas; maybe it was the fact that girlfriends were present and we wanted a woman’s take on this; but mostly, I think, it was because my buddy is a fucking awesome dude and we couldn’t believe a woman had ghosted him. This motherfucker speaks 3 languages, goes skiing, has money, treats restaurant staff with respect, and does crossfit. You know: one of those types. Wakes up at dawn on weekends and shit. Anyways, what I’d learn from this dinner ultimately proved the point I’ve been trying to make since I started this blog: there's always value in someone else undergoing crushing rejection.
It's really nothing unusual. You see an attractive person on an attractive-person-meeting app on your phone. Maybe you’re old school and you actually approach someone somewhere like a bar or farmer’s market. Hey, I would rather hang out with you than re-watch season one of True Detective, you think. Hey, she would, too! Maybe you see each other a couple of times. Expensive cocktails are consumed. Date banter is muddled through. Red flags are silently cataloged. Perhaps a regrettable confession is made in a fit of connection-seeking. Eventually: an adult sleepover. Hopefully with sex! You've taken it as far as it can be taken with someone whom it's become clear you're not going to date this one. But you only come to that realization at the precise moment when you get a text from this person saying: hey what are you up to next week?
You feel dread from the message. And so you do what many confrontation-averse people do: You ghost. It's a process that involves two important steps:
You ignore their every attempt at communication.
That's about it.
God, it's so much easier this way, right? You don't have to lie about going to a concert with your ex. You don't have to fire off a brutal-for-all-parties text declaring your lack of interest. Ghosting's even simpler than the slow fade: You know, the increasingly terse, opaque messages sent with decreasing frequency on the platform of your choice.
And why feel bad about it? You met on an app! You both happened to be at the same place on the same day at the same time. Coincidence is futile! Fuck farmer’s markets! You weren't in a relationship! You don't even know each other's preferred foot-cream brand! (Jao Brand Goe Oil, obviously. Shit is fire!)
People like to complain about ghosting the way they like to complain about many, many things in these stupidly narcissistic times. It's an epidemic! It's making us all swipe-right-addicted robots! They're not wrong, in a way. As long as we live in a time when mate-finding has been conveniently reduced to an algorithm-backed, user-friendly interface, people are going to be out there separating the wheat from the chaff with Terminator-like efficiency—and ghosting is simply a reality. Maybe even, sometimes, the best course of action.
“But why couldn’t she just text me or call me to stop reaching out? Like, isn’t it easier to get it over with instead of feel weird every time I call or text?”
The table sat silent. Everyone sitting here had either been ghosted, ghosted, or both. We wondered if there was a right way to do it. While we eventually moved onto other topics, I was infatuated with the idea of ghosting and how one could do it better. I called up my friend Vanessa and ran some ideas by her. Here is what we came up with:
If you’re gonna ghost, ghost early.
The window for rationalizing this type of wimpy abandonment closes after the third hangout. And it will slam down on your fingers even earlier if you've engaged in any relationship-type activities. Served breakfast in bed? Ghosting denied. Invited her over for Sunday-night Netflix & chill? Ghosting allowed. Met the parents? Can’t ghost. Unless you met them because they surprised her one Saturday while you two were having post-hookup hangover bagels on her couch.
Don’t ghost where you stay
Ghosting on anyone who will remain in your life—in any conceivable way—is bad news. Before you decide to Batman smoke-bomb your way out of a situation, you need to be certain: Can you walk the streets without fear? A random Tinder connection is probably low risk. A co-worker is non-ghostable for obvious reasons. Ghosting the coffee-shop barista is a bold move if you're addicted to that single-origin Bolivian espresso. When in doubt, don't ghost.
You can’t really un-ghost
Once you choose the path of total neglect, you have to stay on that path. Fuck your month-later bullshit texts.
So just know that someday you will meet someone you think is really special, and that person will ghost on you so hard your teeth will chatter. It will bruise your ego. Worse, though, will be the week or two you spend in limbo, worrying that you're being ghosted. And as you compulsively check your messages—willing those three dots to appear and wondering: Was I too thirsty? Or too chill? Can you be too chill? Did she not get my jokes? My shitty, shitty jokes?—you'll be forced to consider the truth of it all. Sure, ghosting sounds harmless, with its cozy hashtag of a name. But really, it's no more than a minor variation in a long and shameful history of ways that humans have rationalized being selfish asshats.