Sunday Scaries - Ghost Edition

It was November of last year when I finally realized I could give up on the idea that I will meet a future romantic partner organically, perhaps while waiting in line at a coffee shop, or maybe during Zoom class in my final year at UNC.  Let’s face it: I’m shy and introverted, and we’re in the middle of a global pandemic.  That romanticized view of reality was not happening, not any time soon at least.  I was tired of feeling lonely and craving human connection, so I bit the bullet and downloaded Bumble. A few days of swiping later, I met Cole.  

We quickly hit it off and before I knew it, we were going out to dinner on a first date.  He was nice, funny and had inviting greenish-blue eyes.  Ever since early November, we were keeping up through texting or hanging out in person when both of us were in Chapel Hill.  We watched a six-part true-crime docuseries together.  He made me chicken tortilla soup.  Everything was going well until suddenly, I stopped hearing from him.  No replying to texts, no explanation, nothing.  This is embarrassing to admit now, but at one point I literally thought he might have had an extreme accident or had died.  That possibility was quickly ruled out after he posted an Instagram story of himself wearing Call Her Daddy podcast merch (clearly I dodged a bullet here, but it still stung).  It seemed so out-of-character for him to completely ignore me like that, and to be honest, I didn’t think he was that kind of guy.  

In case you didn’t already catch where this was going, yes, I was ghosted. For my older connections who may not be familiar with the phenomena (I’m looking at you, Dad), ghosting refers to when a person cuts off all communication with another individual - typically a friend or person they’re dating - without any warnings, clues or notice beforehand.  When the ghostee attempts to reach out, typically through texting or social media, they are met with radio silence from the ghoster.  

The reasons I have for sharing this story are twofold. The first reason is obvious: I’m clearly running out of blog topics if I decided to share this embarrassing story about my failing love life online.  The second reason is to pose a question: what are the societal repercussions if ghosting becomes the new normal for ending relationships of any kind? 

I’m worried my generation is getting too accustomed to hiding behind a phone whenever even the most minor confrontation is necessary.  As a socially anxious person myself, conversations that may upset another person are literally my worst nightmare.  But I still force myself to have them anyway, because my discomfort is less important than another person’s feelings. After all, how can you ever expect to be in a meaningful, trusting relationship with someone (personally, professionally, romantically, etc.) if they lack empathy? I don’t think I can lower my bar any further. 

Now that I’ve been ghosted, I’ve decided to wear it like a badge of honor.  Because without experiencing ghosting, are you even a true member of Gen Z? More importantly, how another person treats you says much more about them than it does about you. Ghosts come in all shapes and sizes - whether it be a potential employer never getting back to you after an interview or a lame guy you meet on Bumble, the end result is still the same: a small bruise to the ego but a large bullet dodged.