Discover more from As I Was Saying with Poorna Bell
Why am I still getting ghosted in my forties?
Whether it's romantic or platonic, some reflections on why people do it
One of my favourite phrases is ‘youth doesn’t have the monopoly on…’ followed by whatever it is I happen to be ranting about that day. Fashion, sex, fitness, advertising, beauty and so on.
Something to add to that list is ghosting. Youth does not have the monopoly on ghosting, it turns out, and I can say that with some authority given that I have been ghosted twice in the past two years, by people who professed to love me.
One of the hauntings was extremely recent, and the most shocking aspect of it is that we are both in our forties. Maybe I am naïve, but I felt this was something I’d left behind in my younger years, when my expectations were so low as to resemble a pole in the limbo Olympics. When things such as emotional intelligence and boundaries were non-existent. It makes me wonder if I will still be talking about this when I am in the retirement home, standing next to a zimmerframe-shaped hole in the wall left behind by a hastily departing amour. I hope not.
Ghosting, for anyone who isn’t aware (I won’t shame you by suggesting you’ve been living under a rock, perhaps it’s simply that the last time you were single, it was during the Blair-Bush administrations) is when someone you’ve been dating disappears. Drops all communication. There is some disagreement as to what the requirements are for ghosting. Some would say it isn’t just the preserve of romantic connections, that friends can ghost too. I agree, but I don’t think ghosting counts if it’s less than three dates, or if the friend isn’t someone you have a close relationship with. What can be agreed on is how hard it is - psychologist Jennice Vilhauer says it is similar to emotional cruelty.
In my case, what shocked me recently, was that I didn’t see it coming. This was someone who was very good at articulating their thoughts, and had a seemingly high level of emotional intelligence. We were currently taking a break due to work and long distance circumstances, and were in the midst of trying to arrange to see each other.
I won’t go into the gritty details, not least of which because it isn’t a situation that has resolved, but I didn’t agree with the way we were communicating about meeting up. They were terrible at texting (perhaps that should have been a sign this was on the cards), and had gotten into a rolling pattern of apologising profusely. The end result was that it made me feel terrible about myself, and I sent a message saying as much, as gently as I could.
I would love to tell you what they thought about it, but I have no idea, since they didn’t reply and it has been two months. (Yes, they are still alive, and yes, they do still have their phone as evidenced by their poltergeist activity on my Instagram, sporadically liking posts).
I believe people who ghost are either afraid of love, or don’t believe they deserve love, and try to burn it all down with your feelings as collateral damage.
I’m not sure what I could’ve done to prevent it - perhaps there were signs, but I chose not to see them. Someone said a sign to look out for is if they are a bad communicator - but I don’t think this is a reason to stop seeing someone. People evolve and change, and that can be something you work on in a relationship.
I suppose the reason why I am still getting ghosted in my forties, is that while I may have done a ton of therapy, and actively tried to change old patterns of behaviour, other people have not. I couldn’t imagine in my forties, simply disappearing from the life of someone I care about (as they professed). The guilt alone of throwing a Molotov cocktail of cowardice and insecurity into someone’s life would end me. But perhaps some prefer avoidance so much, that the guilt is merely incidental.
The bright side (and being an optimist I always strive for the positive takeaway), is that I’ve realised being ghosted in your forties is not the same as being ghosted in your 20s or 30s. Admittedly at the start, it triggers a machinery of self-loathing that no one is immune to. What did I do wrong? What signs did I miss? Should I have sent that message? And, if you’re feeling particularly vinegary with the self-flagellation: Am I so deeply unloveable that this person cannot even send a singular message to let me know where I stand?
But, depending on how much personal and psychological work you’ve done on yourself, that should quickly turn to indignation. If you have an awareness of your good points and values as a person, you will soon come to realise what an utter turnip they are. They could have had someone accomplished, and funny, who would have supported them when times got tough. But then they threw it all away. Because truly, I believe people who ghost are either afraid of love, or don’t believe they deserve love, and try to burn it all down with your feelings as collateral damage.
Being ghosted no longer carries the same punch not just because of loved ones I have lost, but because of who I have become. I have a strong sense of self-worth – not just because of what I bring to the table (which is a feast), and I would never take back a penitent ghost, which makes it easier to move forward. Maybe sometimes people deserve a second chance, but I know from experience that I will never feel safe or secure with someone who could cut me out of their life so easily.
This understanding is critical because ghosting leaves you in pain, wondering why. In my younger years, I would seek out that answer even though I knew it would only make me feel worse. Drunk text messages, ‘accidental’ missed calls, weird and convoluted plans to engineer crossing paths with them.
The older I’ve gotten, the more I realise a ghost cannot offer an explanation that will assuage that hurt. While sometimes apologies later on can help, the most malign misunderstanding about closure is that you need another person in order to attain it. You are capable of closing that door yourself.
The way I see it is that when someone ghosts you, they are almost doing you a favour by taking themselves out of the situation. As Toni Morrison said, thin love ain’t love at all. And she was right. You deserve more than ghost love. So do I.
When something ends or never reached its potential, there’s a time to grieve what could have been. But there is also a time when it is necessary to move on. Being in my forties has made me sharply aware of time, and most importantly, wasting time.
I know I want everyday, ocean-deep, thick like a bramble and sweet as a blackberry love. I can see it so clearly. And in a way, I feel sorry for a person who ghosts. Because at the end of it, I imagine them being the loneliest creature of all, living constantly on the periphery of flesh and blood love, but always being too afraid to do the brave thing, and claim it.
Paid subscribers - you may have received more posts from me this week than I’d normally publish due to it being launch week which I hope hasn’t been too irksome.
I wanted to say a huge thank you for supporting and please do get involved in the conversation in the comments below - I’d love to chat with you about the article!
Subscribe to As I Was Saying with Poorna Bell
Social commentary and essays from career to mental wellbeing, capturing the general WTF of life and topical news, by award-winning author, former HuffPost Exec editor and lifter of heavy weights, Poorna Bell.
interesting topic here and nice post!
i have been ghosted by a lot of friends in the past year. i feel like the emotional damage of platonic friendships ending is similar to romantic relationships for me. the fact that ghosting prevents from me doing a post-mortem analysis with the other person in understanding if i did something wrong is very stressful and debilitating.
I have been able to just start focusing on people that match my energy when it comes to wanting to hang out and that has been a nice coping method for me.
I haven’t been ghosted for a while (I’m due one soon I expect) but I can remember well that sharp slap of bewilderment and humiliation on top of the the emotional shitshow that a break-up already is. There are so many deeply emotionally inadequate people that walk among us and who are massively overrepresented in the dating pool. If it’s any consolation right now, every single man who has ever ghosted me, I now look back on and think “thank fuck they did that”