I was ghosted by two friends…

… and I think we deserved a proper breakup.

An audio version of this article (narrated by me) is available below:

Earlier this year, I was ghosted (separately) by two good friends. I’m talking cold-turkey, sudden, out-of-nowhere, crickets-chirping-in-the-background silence. 

I knew something was up because the behaviour marked a distinct change – an absolute 180 – in how we usually communicated. They stopped responding to my messages (but responded to mutual friends), had clearly muted me across social media (both muted my posts and muted me from seeing theirs), ignored major events we would usually talk about, and essentially disappeared like a wrinkle in a Botox factory. 

This was absolutely not a general drifting or falling out of touch. We all have friends that we can go for months without speaking to, who are slack at replying, or who we forget to respond to occasionally but check-in with by sending a ridiculous meme.  

No, both of these were proper I’ve-suddenly-clocked-out-and-you-don’t-know-why ghostings.  

GHOSTING: The practice of ending a personal relationship with someone by suddenly and without explanation withdrawing from all communication.

All aboard the ghost train 

Antony Freitas on Unsplash

Before life went online, in the time of phone calls and letters, it took much longer to realise shit was amiss. Now though, in this age of instant accessibility, it’s often obvious immediately. It’s very hard to convince yourself that things are fine and dandy when you’re left on read, all your social posts have been ignored, and you’re watching an Insta reel of your ghost limboing under someone’s crutch (or crotch) at a mystery event that you weren’t invited to. 

In both cases, this went on for months and I tied myself up in knots about it. The mental gymnastics I put myself through trying to work out what I’d done wrong or what had possibly happened to warrant such a change was far worse than anything they could have told me. The not-knowing and filling in the gaps shattered my self-esteem and sense of self-worth. And, of course, I was also worried about them. What if they were going through some really dark stuff and needed support? I asked and received no reply. (This notion was dispelled via chats with other people, who confirmed that no, actually the ghosts were loving life, ta.)

Being ghosted can feel like being abandoned, discarded or rejected, and that can lead to the aforementioned low self-esteem and self-worth, as well as anxiety, depression and self-blame. If you’re not given an explanation, you can’t get closure. All you can do is pore over every single thing you may have done wrong with no hope of resolution. You can’t learn from it, resolve it, make amends, dismiss it or disagree with it – because you don’t know what it is. 

Years ago, when casually dating, I’d never given a monkeys about being ghosted. I never internalised it and I realise that was lucky – that my self-esteem around dating was pretty solid. I knew that it was rarely, if ever, about me. And, if it was, who cared? So what if Ramsgate Tinder Dave didn’t like my vibe? Fuck Ramsgate Tinder Dave.

But ghosting someone you’ve built a connection with, who you’ve been vulnerable with, who you’ve been through shit with, who you’ve built a foundation with, is, in my opinion, entirely different. And that goes for both romantic and platonic relationships. It’s absolutely crushing.

Having two pals disappear seriously messed with my head. Losing one mate that way was careless, but two? That must be on me, surely? I felt like a terrible human being. I felt like I had misjudged my friendships and myself. It shook my belief about standards of behaviour amongst those I loved: could anyone just secretly dump me at the drop of a hat? Did I deserve to be stealth-dumped? Clearly! Because two people I loved had just done it! 

Every time my mind questioned this narrative, I’d squash the doubts: I must be the bad person here, I must have deserved this because, after all, these people had been my friends so they were good, nice, kind… 

And yet, I did have questions – so I decided to ask them. 

“Are you okay, Jo? This is really intense”

I finally addressed it directly: “Um, are you ghosting me? Pretty sure I’m not imagining something is off. If so, please can you tell me why because this is really messing with my head.” 

The first ghosting friend replied immediately and explained that no, I wasn’t imagining it – aspects of my life were making them feel badly about their own and so they’d decided not to engage for a while. They’d muted me to “establish some boundaries”. They finished their message by saying, “Are you okay, Jo? Because this is really intense.” 

Now, waitjustaminute. 

The word “boundaries” was in the press a lot a couple of months ago as part of the manipulated ‘therapy speak’ Jonah Hill used on his ex-girlfriend in the viral messages leaked online where he asks her (a professional surfer) not to surf with men, hang out with ‘unstable’ women, or post bikini pics in “respect of his boundaries”. 

My friend used it in a similar way: to justify and excuse really pretty rubbish behaviour – in their case, ejecting themself completely from the situation. The situation being, um, my life. Then, when asked about it, they acted as if it was a totally reasonable thing to do and that I was the arsehole for questioning it. According to relationship and human behaviour expert Karen Ruskin, people putting their own emotional needs first is a common reason behind ghosting: "They don't want to confront what it is that they're feeling or they're experiencing; it's too hard for them. Ghosting allows for an avoidance of conflicts, an avoidance of explanation and self-introspection." 

In short: they can pretend it’s not happening, ignoring the fact that it may hurt the other person. This ties into wider societal trends at the moment of disconnection being seen as preferable to discomfort, and minimising nuanced psychological concepts into handy soundbites. When challenged, it can be common for the instigators to add a snifter of gaslighting on top by doubling down, making the other person feel silly for feeling upset. 

And… I never heard from them again

Photo by Shaylyn on Unsplash

The second friend took a month to reply before explaining that yes, in fact there was something going on with us, but they didn’t explain what it was or how I might make amends. They did apologise for ghosting me. Profusely, in fact. And I apologised for whatever it was I’d done, asking if we could work it out. And then they… disappeared again. Totally. Mid-chat. And we haven’t spoken since. This is someone I used to talk to every week. 

I reckon they want to avoid having a difficult conversation and/or hurting my feelings. But imagine telling someone that they’ve done something wrong – something so eye-wateringly awful that it warrants never speaking to them again – but not telling them what it is. If it wasn’t about me, I’d respect the sheer audacity of it. Instead, it’s been absolutely horrendous realising that they don’t believe I am worth having a difficult conversation with.  

Both of my mates broke up with me in their own heads and just…  didn’t inform me about it. They erased me from their lives without so much as a “it’s been lols, but this sucks so fare-thee-well”. 

Break up with me properly, please, or let it go

I can be a douche. I have behaved badly towards friends before – and had friends behave badly towards me – but we’ve either always had “the conversation” and established what is salvageable and what is not, or decided to forget about it because that is part of the contract you make as proper friends. That you trust each other enough – and the foundation you have built – to withstand discomfort. When I am a twat, I have faith that my friends won’t simply pack up and piss off because otherwise, my God, what kind of leeway does that give anyone for navigating real life? I know we will either decide to get over it or to call each other out because surely anything is better than just disappearing into the ether?

Let us agree to forget about it, to make amends or to defend ourselves to the death! 

Relationships can be messy, complicated and uncomfortable – but that’s where shit gets interesting and real. That’s where true connections are either forged forever or broken for good. We are all flawed berks, flailing about in emotional-mud soup. And maybe it’s not even about bad behaviour. Like with my first ghost, maybe something happening in a friend’s life triggers a deep need or trauma in your own and you have to take a break. That’s okay! We all know what it is to ache with longing or pain and not be able to be the person your friend needs you to be. We are all clamouring for acknowledgement, compassion and understanding. But, we owe our friends those conversations – we owe them a proper “bear with me” or a “like” here or there to show you’re still around and to stop them worrying. Or we owe them an “I’m done”. Friendships are hard. They take work. They take courage.

(The giant caveat here, of course, is if the relationship is abusive. In that case, ghost away, pals. You owe them nothing.)

Grieving friendships and getting on with it

Photo by Shaylyn on Unsplash

Both situations made me so paranoid that I started believing I was being ghosted by everyone, making me wary of even the most firmly-established friendships. I even sent one friend a “OMG ARE YOU GHOSTING ME?” message totally out of the blue – no softly-softly test-the-waters messages first. Oh no. Straight in. No fucking about. The resulting conversation was genuinely moving (they weren’t ghosting me – awks) and we ended up on the phone for an hour catching up.

And that was the best thing I did – finally admit to other people what had happened. The shame I felt meant I’d avoided discussing it because it was a) so upsetting and b) so embarrassing. What if my family and friends turned around and said, “To be fair, I’ve been wanting to get rid of you for years”? But they didn’t. At least they haven’t yet. And, even if they did, that would be better than ghosting.

Thank you to everyone who convinced me I wasn’t going mad in feeling that this was grim. You helped me to break free of the shame and self-blame spiral, get some perspective and start grieving the relationships in a healthy way. Like by writing this article – which is safe to do as neither of them will ever read it BECAUSE THEY’RE GHOSTING ME. 

Just One More Thing…

I have actually written a book about friendship hooked off the TV show Friends called “Friends for Life: The art of friendship as seen in the world's favourite sitcom”.

There is a section in it about “cutting out” friends, based upon Phoebe and Monica trying to cut out Amanda Buffamonteezi (the inimitable Jennifer Coolidge) and realising that everyone in their friendship group had tried to cut someone out at one point or another. Essentially, the lesson from the show is: suddenly cutting people out without any explanation sucks. Phasing people out is more complicated (maybe you’re just drifting and growing apart), but even then a conversation is better than leaving people feeling rejected if the drift is all one-sided. None of us are perfect and we all behave badly, but if you’re in proper relationships, you deserve proper breakups. Having boundaries is entirely admirable – but they’re not an excuse for being a dick. 

If you enjoyed this post, I’d love a subscribe and share. Thanks so much. Also, if you believe that I’ve ghosted you, a) that’s absolutely mortifying bearing in mind this article and b) can we agree that it’s also kind of hilarious in its hypocrisy? I’m really sorry.