Feature image photo by Crispin la valiente via Getty Images

After years of crying over people ghosting me in friendships, relationships, and even the most basic of situationships, I’ve realized something so completely devastating: I, too, am a ghoster.

I’m quite honestly the embodiment of an Irish Goodbye. Despite this obvious track record I’ve curated for over eight years, I’m somehow still in denial that I, too, have a transparently white emotional complexion. I’ve never been a huge Halloween gay, but this year’s spooky season has me feeling like a blubbering anti-hero. It’s not that I leave people on read for any particular reason; I just get too emotionally overwhelmed to communicate, which is ironic because I work in Communications, and I’m in school to become a therapist.

Instead of disappearing from my emotional responsibility, I’ve decided to embrace the full transparency of a ghost. Below you’ll find a list of all the times I’ve ghosted someone (that I can remember).

• An entire group of nearly 15 people in Los Angeles. This was a direct consequence of of me suddenly deciding to move to Orlando. They still don’t know I’m here, writing this from Florida.
• A Lex date who told me I’d make a good therapist one day.
• Multiple cis-men on Hinge. I don’t really consider myself under a specific queer label, but when women and they/thems ghost me, I occasionally turn on the “men” tab just to get a taste of what it’s like to have people take initiative in hitting on me multiple times, even if it’s unwelcome.
• Literally every person who responds to my Lex posts. There’s gotta be at least 40 unanswered messages in my inbox.
• Pretty much anyone who DMs me on Instagram. Even though I run social media for a living, I still don’t really see Instagram direct messages as a place to hold a conversation that’s more involved than an American Girl Doll meme.
• The one friend whose only intentions are to check up on me. She really does mean well. It’s just…how do you answer how are you doing?
• At least three different “lifelong” friends that I legitimately do feel an obligation to answer, but I probably won’t.
• My mom, obviously.
• My one friend who is also a chronic ghoster just like me. We have a mutual understanding that ghosting is a love language between us.
• My whole Church community in Los Angeles. They actually really helped me get on my feet while living in in SoCal. Like the previously mentioned 15 people I ghosted, they too don’t know that I’m here, writing this in Florida.
• That one roommate I had when I first moved to LA. We actually formed a good friendship, but you had a child to raise and I couldn’t stand living in Whittier for much longer.
• The girl I flirted with in my Ohio hometown. It was fun watching every episode of Batwoman together, but to this day I still see your replies to my Instagram stories and get confused about how I really felt about you.
• That one friend I made through my QTPOC group during grad school. In an alternate universe, we could be inspirational spoken word/poet friends…and maybe even lovers? He made a great effort in keeping in touch with me after I moved away despite him also pursing a friendship with my ex-girlfriend at the same time.
• Pretty much my entire intentional living community from 2017-2018. I formed this extremely unique family-level bond with six other people I only knew for a year. I think they still talk in a groupchat that I’ve definitely been excluded from.
• A college friend who wanted to end our friendship because of relationship drama with his ex-boyfriend. How am I supposed to respond to I can’t be friends with you because you’re friends with him?
• My college senior year roommate, who happens to be just as good at Irish Goodbyes as me, but she’s actually Irish.
• My college a capella Groupme and Snapchat group. I honestly think I’m missing out on this one, especially because those chats were the real-life equivalent of Glee drama. I just couldn’t stand all the notifications or keep up with the latest memes.
• My music career (or lackthereof). I ghosted my own dreams of becoming the next Taylor Swift.
• A group message of girls I used to be on a rowing team with in high school. It honestly blows my mind that they all still talk to one another and that at least two of them have yet to come out. I have maybe one friend left from high school. Maybe.
• That one friend who got married and had a baby. I guess that’s what happens when you’re from Ohio.
• That one guy I slept with who honestly deserved it.

I’m sure the list continues, but with my chronic ghosting problem and clinical short-term memory, you’ll have to settle for this abbreviated version. Maybe one day I’ll attend a Ghoster’s Anonymous meeting and deal with this. For now, it makes my spooky season personality all that more spicy.

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