GHOSTED!
And Not The Boo Kind
“Ghosting” is the modern term for an age-old pain: ending communication without explanation. If you’ve ever been ghosted or done the ghosting, you know it hurts. I’ve experienced both.
Have you ever ghosted someone or been ghosted?
Sometimes, you can’t get through to someone. Everyone’s tolerance level is different. Mine lasted about five years. At my tolerance expiration date, I wanted to cut ties immediately.
I had a friend, I’ll call her Matilda. We bonded over our love for fashion and jewelry. We met for lunch once a week when we could.
Matilda was a hypochondriac. With no exaggeration. Every week, she had a different health issue. For years, it didn’t bother me, or at least I thought it didn’t. I spoke with her about this a few times but never pushed. And then, it seemed like all of a sudden, it did bother me, big time.
The icing on the cake was when she was having digestive issues, and she was sure, without any doubt, she was suffering from colon cancer. She called me one day; she had called her doctor a “few days ago” and demanded a colonoscopy be performed ASAP! The doctor had refused. She kept pressing. The doctor finally relented, told her to prep, and she went in the next day.
Nope, no colon cancer.
That phone call broke something in me. Maybe it was the imagined scenario of her berating a doctor or the sheer drama of it all. Whatever it was, I felt myself shut down.
I realized I felt exhausted and angry every time we hung up.
I never saw her again. We exchanged a couple of phone calls, but I always declined to meet. She never asked why. I never said why. I stopped returning her phone calls.
I knew she wasn’t going to change without help. And I realized I didn’t have to wait around, hoping she would. I wasn’t going to suggest help; that was her family’s responsibility.
My takeaway: Letting go isn’t easy. But sometimes, it’s the kindest thing you can do for them and yourself.
Here’s the other side of the ghosting coin: this time, I was the one left in the dark.
Steven and I were introduced to a couple who had just moved to the area. He was an attorney, so of course, the men chatted business for a while. Wifey and I spoke the usual cocktail party chatter—kids, schools, neighborhood things. When we parted, I took their phone number and promised to “give them a call soon.”
I called a few days later, wifey answered. I asked if they were free for dinner that coming weekend. She said, “I’m not sure. Can I call you back?”
A week passed with no call. I followed up. Wifey answered again. I asked if she had a clear spot on their calendar to meet up with us for dinner. This time, she answered, “We’re busy for the next week or so, but call me back.”
I had an “itchy” feeling by that point but decided to wait and call back one more time. Was this a definition of stalking?
About a week later, I called and left a message on their answering machine. Wifey never called me back. I admit, I saw it coming.
It turns out that new couple had decided Steven and I didn’t make the hoity-toity cut. (Which is weird because when needed, I can be the hoityist of hoitys). How do I know this? It became self-evident when their pictures began to show up, alongside real hoity-toity, every weekend, in the Social section of our local paper.
When we ran into them again at a restaurant, wifey smiled and said “hi” and made it clear that was the beginning and end of our conversation. Ah ha! I’d been (we’d been) ghosted!
My takeaway: Trust the itch. No stalking. If it feels off, stop chasing it.