So You Got Ghosted…

So you got ghosted. It happens, sometimes abruptly, sometimes after weeks of “good morning” texts and shared playlists. And yes, it stings. Being ghosted has a way of making your brain spiral straight into self-interrogation: Did I say something wrong? Was I too much? Not enough?

But here’s the truth we tend to forget in the silence: Being ghosted isn’t a grade on your worth.

​A few years ago, I challenged myself to go on several dates before the year ended. What happened? None of those boys texted back. Some decided we weren’t a fit after the first date, some after the first kiss, some after five dates, but every single one of them dropped off the face of the earth. And yeah, it sucked. I spiraled, convinced it was something about me, replaying every word and gesture in my head. Early college me was a mess of self-doubt. But here’s the truth I eventually realized: none of those boys were the “one.” It wasn’t me. I wasn’t the problem; it was just that they weren’t the people I was meant to connect with.

​We’ve all been there at least once. If you’ve dated, flirted, or even just emotionally invested in someone in the modern age, getting ghosted is practically a rite of passage. Congrats, you survived it! But here’s the thing: ghosting says a lot more about the person who disappeared than the one left refreshing their inbox. Most of the time, it’s about avoidance, emotional immaturity, or an inability to handle uncomfortable conversations, not your looks, your brain, or your worth.

It doesn’t mean you’re ugly. It doesn’t mean you’re unlovable. And it definitely doesn’t mean you were “too much.” More often than not, it simply means you weren’t their person, and that’s okay. Not every connection is meant to last, and not every almost-something is meant to turn into more. Compatibility isn’t a moral judgment.

What hurts most about ghosting is the lack of closure. Humans are wired for answers, and when we don’t get them, we tend to fill in the gaps with self-blame. But closure doesn’t always come from the other person. Sometimes it comes from deciding not to internalize someone else’s silence as your failure.

Let’s be real: for those of us with anxious attachment tendencies, ghosting is especially rough. It triggers overthinking, rewinds every “what if” scenario, and makes our brains spiral trying to fill in the missing pieces. It doesn’t make us stronger or teach us a lesson; it just fuels anxiety and self-doubt. Ghosting is not a growth hack for our hearts; it’s a blind spot in someone else’s ability to communicate, and that’s on them, not us.

It’s worth saying: ghosting doesn’t only happen romantically. It happens with friends who slowly stop replying, with potential work opportunities that go quiet after promising conversations, and even with family members who disappear when things get hard. The unanswered email, the unread text, the “we’ll be in touch” that never materializes, it all carries the same weight. Ghosting is now a broader cultural habit, not just a dating flaw. It shows up wherever people avoid discomfort, accountability, or honesty. And no matter the context, it still hurts to be left without explanation.​

Being ghosted doesn’t erase your good qualities or invalidate the connection you felt. It just means the story ended differently than you expected. And while that can feel disappointing, or even embarrassing, it’s also freeing. You didn’t lose someone who was capable of showing up fully for you.

One day, someone won’t disappear. They’ll stay, communicate, and choose you clearly. Until then, don’t let a ghost convince you you’re anything less than real, worthy, and enough. And in the meantime, focus on inviting people into your life who actually show up, people who respect your time, energy, and heart. Choosing better people isn’t about being picky; it’s about protecting your own worth and making space for connections that actually matter. You got this.