Ghosted by a Friend? Let it Go.
Ghosted by a Friend? Let it Go.
March 3, 2023
By Stef Ziegler
Raise your hand if you’ve ever held a grudge against someone. Maybe the person you held it against lied to you, cheated on you, ghosted you, was verbally or physically abusive, mean, or in some capacity, deeply hurt you.
Most of us know this feeling. Most of us never see it coming. And it SUCKS.
A few years ago, I was the one who ‘never saw it coming.’
It started like many friendships do: we met at work and hit it off quickly. She was fun, hilarious, whip-smart, and supportive. I shared my personal life and she shared hers. We laughed over wine and dinners, and genuinely enjoyed many mid-day walks outside of the office. I amused her with the ridiculous exchanges I had with some of the men I was meeting through dating apps; she invited me to her baby shower where I met her lifelong friends and family. Our friendship gave me joy.
And then one day… she went radio silent.
The pandemic hit, work was stressful, and she had just given birth to her first child. Communication ground to a halt. Texts would go unanswered for weeks. My calls went to voicemail and were not returned.
I don’t consider myself a needy friend, and I’m fortunate to have many other deep friendships. But this STUNG.
At the time I was also at the start of a new relationship (the one that turned out to “the one”). I was simultaneously falling in love with this man, who would later become my husband… and feeling the utter heartache of a friendship suddenly evaporating.
Months passed, and still nothing. I couldn’t wrap my head around it.
Had I said something that upset her? What changed? Did it just boil down to her busy life, or was it me?
I’d had friends who had babies, but none of them disappeared like this.
I felt suffocated in grief, mourning the loss of a friendship I cherished. I kept wanting to reach out to see if it was something I said; if there was something I could do.
But every time I reached out to her in even the smallest way, it’d be weeks before I got a reply—if I got one at all.
For example, I’d ask about the baby—a reply would be short and days later.
I’d ask about work—no reply.
I’d try calling her (and leave a voicemail)—no acknowledgment of the call. Not even a text back.
Every attempt I made was met with new, ever-more-distant energy. It was reaching the point where I didn’t know what to do. Was it time to just give up? Or was this just a temporary break? The total lack of communication was killing me.
I realized it was time to switch my approach. I leaned into my mindfulness practice and sat with what was coming up for me. First came a wave of anger. I was so mad at her. Why would she do this to me? I told myself to just notice it. I rode a wave of deep sadness when I thought of her. It was full of loss. Again, I told myself to just notice it. I began to practice not pushing the pain away. I so desperately wanted an answer, a reason why. Again, I sat in meditation and allowed myself to simply notice whatever came up.
And then something shifted. A small guidance came to me that told me to be with it. I started to ask myself, How can I be with these uncomfortable feelings? How can I welcome them even though every fiber of my being wanted to resist?
But I knew I had to go there.
So “be with it” became my mantra.
When anger, sadness, and grief came over me, I simply allowed it. I sat with it. And through this simple act of allowing the feelings, of being present with them—everything started to shift. Things began to feel lighter; my mind began to feel clearer. I could feel a weight being lifted.
Next, I couldn’t believe what was coming over me: I wanted to forgive her. This did not happen quickly, and I continued to resist forgiving within my body even though my mind felt ready. In meditation, I started to lean into forgiveness. I asked for guidance and began to do meta meditations: “May she be free, may she be happy, may she be at peace” along with reciting the same for myself.
One day out of nowhere, I noticed I hadn’t thought of her in a long time. And I noticed that when I did think of her, the anger was gone. Sure, there was a lingering curiosity about what happened… but I knew it didn't really matter anymore.
Through this practice, I was able to let her go; to let our friendship go. I came to terms with the fact that she was a wonderful, loving friend—for a certain part of my life. We were like ships passing in the night. And that’s okay.
Not all friendships are meant to last. Sometimes they come and go.
I may never know why she decided to cut ties. Maybe it was me. Maybe it had nothing to do with me. But the biggest lesson I learned is that sometimes the only closure we can get is given to us when we decide to let it go.
