i've been ghosted. ew. now what?

it's our third instalment of dear emily!

My friends!

I am back in Rome. I am sitting on my couch, after just ordering a new couch cover (couch covers are huge here it’s so strange), and a bunch of new bathroom accessories on Zara Home. We’re going for a zen, spa-like, Mediterranean getaway for this place. Think - lots of creams and whites with hints of blue. It’s so interesting when you look back and see how your design style changes over the years. Anyways. 

I have a little espresso beside me with the AC blasting, because there is no other way to survive 40 degree weather. This is why I had to make a mini escape to the North last week, because the heat gets unbearable. The heat and homesickness were a common theme in July - and I’m hoping that my lakeside getaway, along with every single person I know coming to hang out in August + September will help me move on from summertime sadness. 

Anyways, enough about me. A while back, I had a friend write to me about being ghosted. 

I’ve been ghosted after a few dates with a guy I like. Ew. Now what?

Okay, I am going to make a very broad and generalized statement. I honestly think ghosting after a few dates, especially with someone you like - is one of the worst forms of psychological torture. And even if you are the ghost yourself, there is still an element of torture involved. 

I think what I have realized, after being both ghosted and the ghost - it comes down to fear. It never has to do with any of the lies and stories we tell ourselves (we weren’t pretty enough, we weren’t cool enough, we weren’t insert adjective of choice enough). It comes down to a fear of feelings, a fear of feeling our own feelings, or a fear of hurting someone else’s feelings. 

I don’t know how ghosting became such a big trend in our society. I think it’s our need and desire for things to be as seamless and easy as possible. I’m pretty sure there was like 8 different steps to take before asking someone out on a date 50 years ago, and now, within the span of you walking from your bathroom to your kitchen, you can get a Bumble date in .02 seconds for that same evening. 

I will make an exception to ghosting if it’s after one really bad date. No one really owes anyone anything after a mutually shitty first date, but, if it’s after a few, combined with you two regularly communicating - that’s when it becomes tortuous and spiral-inducing and problematic. 

I will tell you a story. It was the pandemic summer, and I was seeing this guy. It had been 6 dates, which - if you know me - is an insanely high record. He was great (and still is, might I add - you never know who is reading these letters). We had probably one of my favorite first dates ever, a little pandemic picnic complete with my favorite snacks (all dressed chips and fuzzy peaches). Watched the sunset, made out, got yelled at by my friends because “Emily -  it’s a pandemic why are you making out with people” And in my defence, everything was reopening!

We honestly were having a great little summer romance. He took me golfing (also lol), had little bbqs, went to rooftop patios, etc. After the 6th date, is when the slow fade started to creep in. And you know what I’m talking about - the morning texts stop, work becomes the excuse, etc. etc. 

Me being the prideful Leo rising that I am, instead of confronting him about it - I attempted to match his energy. He wasn’t reaching out, so I stopped reaching out. I vented to my friends everyday: “How dare HE. This should be a role reversal. I should be the one slow fading!!!!!” It was July 2020 and my ego was in complete shambles. 

Anyways, after a much needed therapy session with an actual therapist, she told me to confront. To send a text, in a non-confrontational tone - thanking him for the time spent and wishing him all the best in the future.

“Immediately, no.” Was my initial reaction. And as time went on (isn’t funny how therapy kicks in a few days/weeks/months later), I realized - maybe it wasn’t the worst idea to attempt closure, so I could stop my July Spiral.

So, I sent the very emotionally mature text. And I received an essay back - which was him admitting to getting scared because he (like myself) also hadn’t been past date number 3 in a very long time. And, also, him taking full responsibility of the slow fading. Was my ego still bruised? Absolutely. But I had the closure of knowing why it ended, and surprise, surprise - it had nothing to do with me.

And, in another shock to no one - he reappeared. They always do. This past NYE actually, when he drunk called me and decided to go down a trip of our pandemic romance memory lane.

So - some key takeaways: Ghosting is a reflection of someone else’s fear of feelings, and fear of having conversations that might potentially hurt someone else’s feelings. Does it ever have anything to do with the other person? More often than not, no. And take it from me, as someone who was the ghost recently (and then reappeared, obviously) - I literally blocked someone because I was scared of how much I liked them. What does this say about my inability to deal with my own feelings? I mean, no one is perfect.

Let’s make a pact. When we like someone, let’s tell them. When we’re not feeling it, let’s also tell them (in the most kind way). When we’re not ready for a relationship, you guessed it - let’s tell them. And when we need to speak our truth, whatever our “truth” might be - let’s just fucking tell them instead of writing a million and one newsletters about it.

I love you guys, I really do.

Time for me to go on my Sunday grocery shopping haul. I feel like making spaghetti alla puttanesca - I’ve been obsessed with olives and anchovies lately.

TTYL,

Emily