Ghosting: the practice of ending a personal relationship with someone by suddenly and without explanation withdrawing from all communication.
I’ve been ghosted by every guy I’ve met within the past two years. About six to be exact.
· The first guy pursued me and then got shady whenever I asked him about what he did for a living and where he lived. When he started dodging and avoiding questions, wouldn’t initiate dates, and slowly stopped keeping in touch with me altogether, eventually, all communication ceased.
· The second guy was someone I met through a family member. He was super cool, very smart, handsome, and funny, but didn’t want to be in a relationship and acted like he didn’t want to be seen with me publicly. When we had plans to meet for an outing, he didn’t show up, and then texted me about a week later with an apology. We chilled at my place a few times, had a few phone conversations, and exchanged occasional texts, but eventually he stopped responding to me and ceased communication too.
· The third guy was given my number after a different family member asked if they could set me up with him. He saw a picture of me and thought I was “pretty” but never reached out because he didn’t want to drag me into his baby mama drama. I was actually fine with this because, truthfully, I’d rather not be involved with someone with a child from a previous relationship and have to deal with the weight and stress that can come with that situation. I’d rather protect my peace, physical safety, and mental health.
· The fourth guy was given my number by one of my best friends and never reached out. He was still “figuring things out” with a different woman who wasn’t being consistent or upfront with him.
· The fifth guy was a friend of a friend and shared that he thought I was “pretty” but never reached out or followed up.
· And the sixth guy was someone who approached me at a professional gathering. We kept running into each other on and off, and while he seemed shy at first, he eventually asked me what my name was, and we went from there. While we shared some laughs, chill conversations, and lingering eye contact, things seemed to be pretty light and platonic for the most part… up until a younger woman caught his eye and interest, and I no longer seemed as interesting to him.
As I began taking inventory of all this and started examining my role in things too (because I’m smart enough to know that it’s not always the other person’s fault) I realized that trying to date in this climate isn’t easy and can feel downright discouraging sometimes. I’ve been embarrassed and often confused by some of these situations – but I’ve also learned to forgive myself, be patient with myself, and reestablish firmer boundaries with my time, my kindness, and especially my heart.
As an unmarried and childfree 33-year-old woman who has dated, prayed, and desired a solid partner and husband for a while now, I’ve had a nice amount of time to reflect on how navigating singleness and dating in my thirties has been. For the most part, my singleness has been peaceful and amazing. I love having my own home, purposeful career opportunities, being financially stable, taking care of my fur baby, and the freedom to do just about anything I want. Dating, however, has been something else.
When I was communicating some of my frustrations with men and dating with one of my homeboys, he explained to me that I wasn’t expecting anything that I didn’t already bring to the table myself, however, he also shared that me having my stuff “together” would scare a guy who didn’t have his stuff together. I was also advised to consider exploring dating options outside of my race – and while I'm not opposed to this, the only thing is that I would prefer a Black partner for many, many reasons, but that's a topic reserved for another blog post at another time. Apparently embracing a successful woman is a lot for some guys to handle. And I didn’t think this was entirely true until different guys I’d been interested in stopped keeping in touch with me shortly after I purchased my home a few years ago. I’ve also been called “aggressive,” “intimidating,” “too independent,” and an “alpha female…” Which have all been things that I’ve spent time trying to understand and unpack as well.
Being ghosted has also taught me that while it’s nice to be open, you don’t have to be open to everyone who comes along. It’s more than okay to say no. Ultimately, I believe it would be best to allow God to do the choosing for me. I’m not planning on accepting any more dates or set ups without a clear word, confirmation, and seal of approval from God first, and I wouldn’t want a guy moving forward with me without doing the same.
There were a few guys I met this year who I sincerely believed were God-sent, but when we got closer and got to know each other better, I soon realized we weren’t in alignment or agreement with certain things that are non-negotiables for me: such as compromising my Christian values, playing house, allowing guys to sleepover at my house, and even some who made jokes about trying to move in with me (because they live with their parents, can’t afford their own place, and would rather live off a woman than be a man who has his own everything). Consequently, not compromising on these things has led to being ghosted altogether – which is fine with me. Because I’m not willing to compromise in areas that would be in direct disobedience to the life God has called me to live.
Now what’s been tough has been watching some of these same guys pursue relationships, start families, and even propose to and marry women who are total nightmare, save-a-ho, trainwrecks. I’m serious. Observing and experiencing this part of things has honestly been one of the hardest and more painful parts than actually being ghosted. One of my successful friends in her early forties (also unmarried and childfree) recently shared a few stories about how she’d been ghosted and even stood up at the exact same restaurant I was stood up at awhile back. As we both talked, she explained that this generation of men just doesn’t seem to want good women. She went on to say, “We’re good women. I don’t get it. These dudes like dealing with women who are hos who come with a lot of baggage and drama.”
And she’s not wrong. Because truthfully? Some dudes would rather build with a nightmare than a dream.
I’ve seen this happen repeatedly. Nightmare women give a lot of thirsty energy (in the beginning) and will typically do anything and everything to keep a guy, even if it means diminishing and devaluing themselves in the process. Dream women won’t do that because they’re aware of their value. What’s wild is that when these guys do move forward with a nightmare woman, somewhere along the line, she will eventually break his heart, complicate his life, try to trap him with a baby he doesn’t want or didn’t anticipate, and empty his bank account (assuming the guy is someone who makes a decent living). So there’s that.
My friend (mentioned above) and I are in a unique space because as Black women, the messages often communicated to those of us who are single is that we don’t deserve a faithful partner, that we want “too much” if we desire a spouse, that we should just take what we can get, and settle for who’s available and interested. Even if the other person is someone who doesn’t deserve us at all. But I can’t buy into any of that, and I won’t. I’d rather forfeit than settle.
I could choose to be bitter and resentful about ignored texts and phone calls and even being stood up on dates. And I could be angry and sad when a guy I saw a future with chooses a lesser woman. Or I could shower myself with love, self-care, and acceptance, and just move on. As a woman of faith, I know God has already ordered my steps. Worrying and stressing over a guy who leaves doesn’t serve me at all. If God has someone in mind for me, we’ll connect and cross paths when He feels the time is right. If not, that’s fine too. Because no matter how things turn out, I know I’m a dream woman, and no one can ever take that away from me.