You’re sitting at a table for two at a busy brunch cafe, trying not to look conspicuous. Around you, conversations buzz like wasps at a picnic. Wait staff flit here and there with metal platters of coffee and croissants precariously balanced on upraised palms. The scent of toast, waffles and fried egg envelop you as you crane your neck toward the entrance, desperately seeking your friend who was supposed to meet you twenty minutes earlier.
You check your calendar: yes, you’ve got the correct day. This is the correct place. You check your text messages: nope, nothing from your friend. Call her number; no answer. Now you check your temper: yep, it’s rising, as you realize you’re likely here for eggs benedict all on your own and your “friend” is definitely not going to show up.
We’ve all been there, right? Welcome to the wonderful world of ghosting.
According to the Cambridge dictionary, “ghosting” is “a way of ending a relationship with someone suddenly by stopping all communication with them.”
Since the term evolved, originally, from the practice of ghostwriting (so naturally, I have a personal interest in this one), over time it came to apply to dating situations and, eventually, to any relationships at all.
And now, I’ll suggest that the term “ghosting” has evolved yet again.
I think we all experience multiple instances of what I call “micro-ghosting” daily, as more and more people assume it’s totally fine to simply neglect to inform us that they’ve changed their mind about our plans, or, more specifically, when they simply abdicate responsibility, believing it’s totally okay to renege on promises and actions.
To my mind, situations like these all constitute micro-ghosting:
You made plans last Tuesday to see a movie with a particular friend on the weekend. While waiting for her in the lobby, you text and receive the response: “I didn’t think those were firm plans. I’m out with my cousin, who’s visiting from South Africa” (which, of course, begs the question: didn’t she know her cousin would be visiting when you made your plans just a few days earlier?!).
Chatting at the communal mailbox (we have those in Canada) on Monday, you and your neighbor agree to go for a walk in the neighborhood on Thursday evening. When you show up at her door for the pre-arranged walk, her husband answers and tells you she’s out for the night with her book club.
You ask a friend if she can drive you home from your eye doctor appointment when your pupils will be dilated the size of traffic lights and you won’t be able to drive. She agrees. When she doesn’t show up at the appointed time, you call to find she’s in the middle of grocery shopping. “Oh my gosh!” she says. “I’ll be right there!” You wait another hour for her to finally arrive.
You and your friend chat about how much you love pottery and the fact that a pottery exhibition will be at the local civic center on the upcoming weekend. Your conversation includes your friend’s enthusiastic squealing (“I’d LOVE to go to that with you!”); a specific time you’d go (“I’m free around 2:00 on Saturday”); and the means to get there (“I could just swing by your place and we could even walk over together.”). Yet, when the day arrives and you call your friend at 1:45 to confirm pickup time, she responds, “Oh, I’ve already got plans! Gee, I didn’t realize we had actually confirmed anything for today. . . ?”
What micro-ghosting amounts to, in pretty much all cases, is a lack of personal responsibility when it comes to social situations. I mean, how hard is it to (a) add a reminder to your calendar for agreed-upon meetings; (b) check said calendar; and (c) let a person know if you are unable to meet your previously agreed-upon obligations?
Yet micro-ghosting has become rampant in today’s society.
Back in the day (in other words, the “pre-digital technology day” when I was in my teens and 20s), the concept of ghosting, (micro or otherwise) was extremely rare, if it existed at all, Sure, people were familiar with lying, cheating or scoundrels who’d promise to call and then wouldn’t (back in those days, women didn’t have the nerve to call the guy in question and demand an explanation for his vanishing interest, though).
So what’s the story? Were people simply more reliable back then?
In a word, Yes.
Without cell phones to execute a last-minute cancellation, we were infinitely more likely to stick to our commitments. If I had made plans to meet a friend for brunch, chances were it would take each of us 30 or more minutes to get to the place (not including time to shower; select our outfit; blow-dry, gel and mousse our hair; don the carefully-chosen outfit; put on various layers of makeup, et cetera). Such faux pas as breaking plans at the last minute simply weren’t done.
Back then, radio silence could mean your friend was lying mangled in a ditch by the road after being struck by a car on the way over. Or she’d been robbed at gunpoint, left shaking in an alleyway without a purse or identification. Or maybe she’d just learned of a loved one’s unexpected passing–or any other manner of horrific emergencies that you had no way of knowing until you got home and checked your answering machine (an actual machine with teeny-tiny cassette tapes in those days).
Back in the day, people just didn’t put others they loved through that kind of emotional turmoil. Better to just show up to the damn brunch.
I have one friend whom I adore. She’s the sweetest person I know. Generous, kind, loving, big-hearted, understanding, tolerant, a great ear when times are tough–she’s got it all.
But man, that woman is a serial micro-ghoster.
It started when she’d simply show up a little late for our meetings. Ten minutes turned to (that one time, the worst) 43 minutes. Then, when I’d call to see what was going on, she’d clearly seem surprised that I was waiting, as she’d obviously either forgotten or hadn’t thought about the meeting time.
After sitting alone at the restaurant for 43 minutes, then finding out her daughter was joining us unannounced (they’d clearly been clothes shopping and she’d likely had no record of our brunch at all), I was done with that behavior.
But such a conundrum! As I said, this woman is one of the loveliest humans I know (when you can actually get her in front of you, that is).
So I decided to set a boundary. I stopped initiating plans. When she suggested a get-together, my response became, “Sure, but let’s check in the day before to be sure we’re both still free.” Even for events that required purchasing tickets in advance, I’ll no longer assume firm plans without day-of confirmation.
And you know what? She hasn’t missed a get-together since.
So, are micro-ghosters worthy of forgiveness? Should we give them a second (or third, fourth, fifth and so on) chance? Personally, I’ve developed a means to assess whether or not it’s worth tolerating the micro-ghosting and for how long. I mean, we’re all distracted these days, worry and anxiety are at all-time highs. The world is on the precipice of who knows what, and people are just stressed to the max. We’re all deserving of a little slack.
And, as I discovered a while back, some instances of ghosting aren’t actually ghosting at all; there are some people who are simply so distracted, so wound up in their own little worlds that they unwittingly appear to ghost you when that wasn’t their intention at all.
Let me leave you with one last story.
When the HH and I were first dating, we’d been together several months when the he found out he had to move. The lease he’d shared with two friends was up, and the landlord informed the guys he’d be renovating the building, so they had to leave. After a short search, the HH found a new rental with two other friends.
Around that time, he’d just begun to call me his “girlfriend” in public. I’d met most of his friends (but not the two with whom he was going to share the new house). I’d even helped him through the transition after his mother died a month earlier. In other words, there was no doubt our relationship was solid.
Or was it. . . .?
The morning of his movie, I sent him silent good wishes (these were the days before cell phones, remember, and the house phone had been disconnected). I went about my daily routine, certain I’d hear from him once he got settled in the new place after they’d unpacked the necessities.
As I ate my dinner that evening, I assumed the guys were getting used to each other and maybe sharing a pizza and beer in the new place. Then the daylight began to fade, the stars emerged (because back then, skies were clear 99% of the time and you could actually see stars at night) and it was time for bed. Maybe just a little concerned, I conducted my usual night-time routine and went to sleep, confident I’d hear from my BOYFRIEND in the morning.
But no. The following day brought yet more silence. Had the previous four months all been a sham? Was he playing me the whole time, and I’d been naively unaware? No, that was impossible! I rejected the idea wholeheartedly. I wasn’t that bad a judge of character, was I? He’d been sweet, sincere, loving, kind.
So what the heck was going on?
Unfortunately, I had no way to contact him as he hadn’t shared his new address before moving, and of course I had no phone number (it could take several days to hook up a new phone line back then). Besides, the name on the account could have been one of his new roommate’s, whose last names I didn’t know.
I waited patiently for a full week with no contact. Then I started to get angry. A few more days went by. I assumed I’d been ghosted, I wrote off the lying cad, and I went on with my life.
Three days later, I received a phone call.
“Hi! How’s it going? Want to go out for dinner on the weekend?”
Was my shock obvious? No idea. Either way, I swallowed hard before responding.
“Uh, are you in your new place?”
“Yeah! The move went really well. We unpacked everything right away. It’s a great place. You’ll have to come by and see it!”
Totally oblivious.
I needed confirmation. “So, no glitches with the move? And everything in the house is okay?”
“Yeah, no problem at all. And the guys are great. It’s been going great.”
“That’s nice. Did you just get the phone connected?”
“Oh, no, we got it the next day, I think.”
I see.
To make this (agonizingly) long story short, I agreed to meet him for dinner. And then, I broke up with him.
I explained that I couldn’t date someone who showed so little regard for his supposed girlfriend that he didn’t contact her for ten days after moving to a new house.
“But we had to get stuff done in the house!” he said. “And I had work! I have to go to work!” It was obvious: he didn’t get it.
After the breakup, we both mourned. Then, I wrote an article about it (because that’s what I do). It was called “Why I Want to Be a Lesbian,” and it was published in the Globe and Mail.
After he read it, the HH got back in touch. He took me out for my birthday, proffering an Erik Satie CD as a birthday present (which I still possess). I accepted his apology.
And here we are, 27 years later.
So, is micro-ghosting a ubiquitous problem these days? Yes, yes it is. Should it always presage the end of a relationship?
I guess it depends. Because sometimes, it’s just not worth it to give up the ghost(ing).
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I agree, micro-ghosting is frequent. At the same time, I think, as we age, memory is more of an issue. I try to right everything down, but sometimes forget. If I don't, there's a 50/50 chance I won't remember time/place to meet someone.