ghosting: (n) the practice of ending a personal relationship with someone by suddenly and without explanation withdrawing from all communication. (Dictionary.com)

Ghosting is not an unfamiliar practice. It’s been happening since the beginning of time, but with the influx of social media and the ease and efficiency of getting connected, it’s become more taboo; more obvious. Think about it: It’s 1764, Martha and Benjamin saw each other a few times, Benjamin goes off to war and the two exchange a series of letters. Suddenly the letters cease. Did Benjamin die at war, or did he merely not want to see Martha anymore? Morbid, I know- but either way, our friend Ben is off the hook. In the information age, it’s easy to access all kinds of personal information about another, so if you’re being ghosted, it’s likely pretty obvious. I think of the scene in Ingrid Goes West where Ingrid (Aubrey Plaza) frantically uses all platforms of communication, desperate to get in touch with her pseudo friend Taylor. Now, when you call someone and you get their voicemail, you’re suspicious. When you text them and you see that they posted to Instagram just a few minutes ago, you know they were on their phone and you wonder why they’re not texting you back. There are read receipts on every form of text based communication from Facebook, to Instagram, to iMessage, so the person even knows when you’ve seen their message. Welcome to 2017, where there is no hiding. In light of this, ghosting isn’t just about disappearing, it’s about DISS-appearing.

I’ve only encountered ghosting once. I met Mike* on Bumble. We hit it off with our mutual love for Disney and our families being from Long Island. We went on a first date to a taco place downtown and talked for four hours over chips and guac and margaritas. We texted a bunch over the course of another week when he invited me for coffee and a walk around Bryant Park. Another four hour date later, we were saying goodbye in the busy subway tunnels of Times Square. What felt to me like fireworks as we stood a distance from each other promising to get in touch to plan our next date, to him must have felt like “get.me.out.now,” because there never was another date. I texted him once a few days later to check in but heard nothing in response. I thought about it another time and wondered what I’d done. Why did he spend four hours with me if he was no longer interested? I would have ran for the hills by then if it were me. Although he wasn’t the only person I was seeing, I really liked him and when I realized there would not be another date or at the very least the closure of a “thanks for your time, but I don’t see this going anywhere” text, my heart sunk a little. Sure getting a text like that is disappointing, but it allows you to move on. I longed for that text so I knew for sure it was over. I keep that feeling of being in limbo in mind whenever I date now.

Daily Urbanista

The phrase ghosting became popularized in mainstream media in 2015, when Charlize Theron used the word in an interview where she described ending her relationship with Sean Penn by neglecting to answer calls and texts according to Mic. Pretty shady huh? I thought so too, especially after my experience with Mike*. Any reasonable person on the receiving end of ghosting would initially assume that their ghoster was just busy before jumping to conclusions. That was my assumption too. On the contrary, it seems that with the pressure of constantly being connected, the expectation is now ghosted until proven not ghosted. If they aren’t communicating back right away, it’s safe to assume something is up which has to be a contributor to society’s rising anxiety levels. At the same time, it’s hard to be in constant contact with the entire world, so it seems that even the most hopeless of romantics have optioned to ghost. The phenomenon itself being romanticized in popular culture, like in the Halsey song, “Ghost.” A hopeless romantic myself, I swore to never do the ghosting after my encounter with Mike*, but I learned first hand that sometimes the question “to ghost or not to ghost” is a valid one.

Carrying that weight with me, recently I went on a date with another guy Nathan*. Nathan* seemed pretty nice over text. He came on a little strong, but I prefer confidence to beating around the bush. I met him for dumplings in the Lower East Side and from the long gaps and lulls in our conversations, I quickly realized that this was going nowhere. When we finished our dumplings, I thanked him and was getting ready to leave when he suggested that we do something else. “Uh oh,” I thought. He had already told me that he was from the far reaches of Brooklyn and I knew that he came out here just for me, so I felt bad for ditching. I agreed and he led me to Rockwood Music Hall. “Oh no,” I panicked. The last thing I wanted to do, was be stuck on this date for another hour or more as much as I did love live music. “The weather’s so nice, I’d much rather be outside,” I began and suggested we sit at the nearby park.

Somewhere, there was a gap in communication that led him to believe my desire to sit in a park with him meant that I wanted to make out with him. As we sat talking about nothing he scooted closer to me which I reciprocated with sliding a few inches further. He put his hand on my knee and I shrugged it off. He pulled back my hair and I angled my face away from him. Every detail of my body language suggested disinterest, but he still garnered the courage to lean across my body and try and kiss me to which I reciprocated with my palm to his face. “I’m just not feeling a kiss right now!” I half-shouted, fed up with the entire situation. “I’m sorry, I should have read your body language,” he admitted embarrassed. I told him it was fine- it wasn’t- and told him I was going home. He offered to walk me to the train. We said bye quickly after the awkward exchange and there was no mention of another date. “Thank god,” I thought. To my dismay, waiting for me when I got home was a text that read, “I had a great time, let’s do it again soon,” I hoped he was just being polite, then I panicked. I was shocked that he thought there would be another date after that but here I was at the crossroads:

“To ghost or not to ghost, that is the question.”

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I remembered back to my own ghosting experience and how dejected I felt, but then again how could this guy not get it?! I was mad at him for putting me in this situation, but then again, I didn’t get it with Mike*. That’s when it dawned on me. I was being lame. With online dating becoming the norm, I was desensitized. I no longer had to muster up the confidence at a bar to say hello to someone I thought was attractive. I didn’t have to worry about if they had a girlfriend or a wife or if they were gay. All of this information was handed to me on a silver platter, no, a yellow platter that was Bumble. In my hands, a rolodex of single, eligible men in a place where it was accepted and expected for you to come onto them. In the same way, so many came and went thanks to the endless flow of matches, that it didn’t matter when conversation fizzled out between myself and a match, but Nathan* was a living breathing human being and though society’s standards suggested that after one date that went horribly wrong it was probably fine for me to leave it at that, I decided to be honest with him. I began to type.

Hey! Thanks so much for the dumplings. It was really nice to meet you. You’re a really nice guy, but I don’t see this going anywhere romantically, so I’m going to pass on a second date.

There it was clear as day laid out for him in text. I anticipated his response and just a few seconds later it read:

Hey- I understand. Thank you for being honest with me. Good luck!

I breathed a sigh of relief. “I did it! I didn’t ghost him,” I celebrated. I thought the matter was over with, but a few days later I received another text from him.

Cuddles soon?

“The ****?!” I thought to myself. Pardon my french, but I laid it out for him! I frantically scrolled up to make sure I wasn’t dreaming of our last interaction where we agreed not to see each other anymore, but there it was spelled out. “Now what?” I thought. My first impulse was to feel bad, but then I got angry. Women for decades have been made to feel bad for denying “nice guys” what they feel they’re entitled to. I did everything in my power to be honest with him and he continued to invade my space. “I’m going to ghost him,” I decided.

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“All’s fair in love and war.”

A few unanswered texts later, he finally stopped contacting me. I noticed that he also unfollowed me on Instagram and in a weird millennial kind of way, that felt like the end of it. So, when is it ok to ghost? At the end of the day, we all want to feel desired and attractive and when someone negates that it feels awful; however, there’s always the risk of getting hurt. After all, “all’s fair in love and war.” Inaction and complacency; however, isn’t the solution. Giving into the desensitizing may make it easier for you to dodge a bullet, but you may not be present for love when it does come knocking on your door.

On the contrary, when does being polite turn into accepting harassment? Where is the line? For me it was when I said I didn’t want to see Nathan* again and still received multiple romantic and sexual messages from him. I had to remind myself though I wanted to be tactful of his emotions, he was not entitled to my intentions and when I tried all I could to be honest with him, my job was done and I had a right to keep my life private from him. Whether you believe in karma or not, I think that it’s responsible to hold ourselves accountable to communicating with anyone we start a relationship with be it a friend, lover, or coworker. At the same time, we should hold ourselves accountable to respect their space when they ask for it. Though I had my share of struggle with Nathan*, I’ve successfully been upfront with several other suitors and the majority appreciated the respect. To answer the question, I only choose ghosting when someone chooses to disrespect my boundaries.

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