Summary

The author reflects on the experience of being ghosted by a close friend, particularly after sharing significant life events, and contemplates the nature of changing friendships as one grows older.

Abstract

The article "Lessons Learned From a Ghosted Friendship" delves into the author's personal experience with being ghosted by a long-term friend. Despite their close bond, the friend ceased communication without explanation, even after the author shared her pregnancy news and initially received enthusiasm about the friend's involvement in her gender reveal. The author grapples with feelings of confusion and hurt, especially upon discovering her friend's marriage through a text message, an event to which she was not invited. The article explores themes of maturity, transparency, and the dignity of open dialogue in ending relationships. It also touches on the realization that people change and friendships can naturally end as individuals evolve. The author learns to let go of bitterness, focusing on self-discovery and the nurturing of new and rekindled friendships, while still cherishing the past.

Opinions

The author believes that it is more mature and dignified to have an open conversation when ending a friendship, rather than ghosting.
There is a sentiment that ghosting is unexpected and particularly painful in adulthood, especially in one's 30s.
The author values vulnerability and transparency in friendships and is disappointed by the lack thereof from her friend.
The article suggests that significant life events, such as marriage or having a child, can reveal who one's true friends are.
The author reflects on the importance of letting go and accepting that people change, which can lead to the end of friendships.
There is an acknowledgment that while the end of a friendship can be painful, it also opens opportunities for new relationships and personal growth.
The author expresses gratitude for the memories shared with the friend and the positive impact of the friendship, despite its eventual conclusion.

Lessons Learned From a Ghosted Friendship

No hard feelings, just venting

Ghosting is not just a new term; it’s been happening for centuries. But when it happened to me, I’m not going to lie, it stung.

It’s interesting how I never thought about it as a child or an adolescent, but when friendships end as an adult it hits differently.

I admire the people who have the courage to be transparent and end a long-term friendship.

It is fair to say that perhaps they felt it was the right thing to do because their lives were changing, they were excelling in ways that you probably weren’t, or, plain and simple, people outgrow other people.

I think it shows maturity and dignity to have an open dialogue explaining each person’s differences, discussing what went wrong, or acknowledging that maybe everything was right but there was a blockage in the friendship.

Shit happens.

For me, I believe that when my friend — at the time — consciously made the decision to end our friendship after many years, it would have been nice to know her truth.

Everyone is entitled to make their own choices and fully stand by them, but whatever happened to openness?

It’s not like I never asked; I mean, we were really close friends. But, her distant energy made me feel otherwise — like a stranger or an acquaintance. At one point, I felt like I was a bother.

I granted her the space she needed.

I never thought people in their 30’s were still “ghosting”, let alone their friends.

To be honest, the unknown and unanswered questions bothered me more than her vanishing.

One minute, I’m sharing my pregnancy news with her, and she’s eager to be a part of my gender reveal. Then, she disappears, and I find out she got married.

Granted, I knew she didn’t want a big wedding; she wanted an intimate ceremony with no friends, which was understandable, considering the world had gone through a pandemic.

What surprised me was that she didn’t share her plans or even her wedding date. I found out two days after her wedding through a text message, and although I was really happy for her, I couldn’t shake the feeling that our friendship was not the same.

I thought that maybe the reason for not inviting friends to the wedding was just a bullshit excuse.

I asked the uncomfortable questions, but I received no vulnerability in return.

Where I’m from, when someone says or does something distasteful, we ask and talk about it. Even the things we don’t want to hear about ourselves, we lay everything on the table, attempt to piece it together, and find out what’s missing. It’s all part of being an adult.

This situation left me wondering what I could have possibly done for her to ghost me. I had reasons to ghost her too you know, but I never saw myself doing that.

In high school, maybe, yes.

After I had my baby, something inside me switched. I didn’t have the time or energy to dwell on whether or not we were still friends, so I decided not to reach out anymore. I was done.

I felt like I had already done my part, and now I have a baby to take care of — someone who actually needs me.

I put my entire focus on my newborn and that kept me distracted from realizing who my real friends are.

You know who your true friends are when you get married, experience the loss of a parent, become pregnant or have a baby, buy a home, or achieve a career goal.

Within a few months, she, her husband, sister, and a friend of hers all unfollowed me on social media — all within the same month. It was hilarious yet sad, petty, and hurtful.

As I reflect on the closure of our friendship, a quote by Hannah Brencher comes to mind:

“People still have permission to grow into their own skin without you.”

It’s a feeling that no one prepared me for when I was younger. The realization that losing friends as you grow older is a natural part of life, even a healthy one, is something I’ve had to come to terms with.

People change, and the timing of when she decided to end our friendship is less important than accepting that her decision was already made.

I struggled with feelings of bitterness, anger, and confusion, but I also learned the importance of letting go.

It’s okay.

Being a new mom, I have changed drastically for the better. While some doors have closed, an abundance of new ones have opened, including new friends and even old friends who have become closer since I’ve become a mom.

It’s been a journey of self-discovery and self-acceptance, understanding that people’s actions and choices reflect who they are, not a reflection of me.

I’ve wondered if I could have been a better friend, even though our friendship seemed fine. Perhaps a little more tenderness might have made a difference.

In the end, I learned to honor the memories we shared, acknowledging the compatibility we once had and the significant role she played in my life.

I’m forever grateful for the wonderful times we had together and the lessons I learned along the way. She will be missed.

Thank you for reading.

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