To all the men I’ve ghosted:
Ghosting can feel like the easy way out. The “I’ll just ignore this until it goes away” plan. But the thing is, we are all worth so much more than being ignored and disrespected with total and utter silence. Some kid-like behaviors really die-hard in adulthood, and ignoring (or ghosting) is a relational reaction that grips tightly with spooky reliability.
To be honest, I was afraid of being the bad guy. I was afraid they would hate me if I said, “No, thank you,” or “not right now.” At the time, it felt so much easier to simply ignore the whole situation than to face them with full adult integrity.
I was afraid of my own bluntness (East Coast Sagittarius here), and I didn’t trust myself to deliver my “no” with any shred of the kindness, grace, or dignity they deserved. I wanted to “play it cool.”
If I’m really being honest, I was afraid to be loved. I knew that if I let anyone in, they were going to see all of my flaws. The thought of being vulnerable and authentic with the chance of rejection was so unbearable that to love became an excruciating idea in my mind.
Childhood trauma had taught me that love equates to pain and suffering—not joy, butterflies, magic, cuddles, moonlight walks on the beach, feeding each other spaghetti and sh*t, yadda yadda.
So here I was: an adult not trusting in love, not receiving that love, and believing that ignoring the relationship would allow me to stay on some kind of imaginary pedestal without having to see their pain up close.
Funny enough, I just got ghosted…hard!
I got ghosted by someone I was ready to lean into. The connection was there, the feeling was “mutual,” and I really thought I had hit the jackpot. I was honestly shocked over this ghosting and for a while, it felt like a personal haunting. At first, I was mad, frustrated, and then felt the disrespect I had dished out a hundred times before. I stewed and let my mind win gold medals in racing thoughts. I was ready to send the mean text we all write in our heads but stopped (thank goodness).
As the old saying goes, when I’m eager to point the finger at someone else for their shortcomings, I’ve got three fingers pointing right back at me.
So instead of leaning into them with my love, I leaned into myself. I sat with the feelings and pulled apart the sticky cobwebs of self-doubt, self-worth, and fear to see that actually I am a worthy, loveable babe. I emerged with the recognition that sometimes people are not prepared for the love you have to give and that’s okay.
I felt that I still would have rather heard a “no” than complete silence. It all clicked at that moment and I realized how many times I have been on the other side. The silence hadn’t come from something they had done; it came from my own inability to lean into my discomfort and meet them with honesty. So I forgave this person, met them where they are, and affirmed the wonderful lessons I learned from the connection.
The truth is: I’m ready to lean into love. I’m ready even if that means being uncomfortable. Even after being ghosted, my heart remains open.
So, to all the men I’ve ghosted: I’m sorry. I see how much time, soul, and heart I have wasted by not speaking my truth. The truth that was always deserved. The truth that would have set us both free. Our time is precious and I vow to honor the men of my future. Not only for them but the past, present, and future iterations of my own soul.
Wherever they are, I hope they have found great love and many yes’s along their path. May their houses be cleared of all ghosts and their hearts left unhaunted.
You know what? May that be so for us all.