“I can’t believe she ghosted me.”
This was all I could think when I realized Jean, a friend I’d known and loved since childhood, had cut me out of her life. We’d traveled with a group of friends to Miami to celebrate another life longer’s engagement.
We’d planned to have a great time. For most of us – full-time employees, entrepreneurs and mothers, always short on time – this celebration would double as a much-needed vacation. And a great time we had until the very end.
Without going into too much detail, a prior exchange was called into question making Jean (and her best friend) out to be a liar. I was the one who was lied to. We’d returned home by the time I put the details together and in turn, I sent a group text to those of us who traveled in one vehicle. At the time, this approach seemed logical since the four of us who traveled together also shared a hotel room. (In two other rooms were the remaining six women.) The other roommates were a part of the incident, too. Months later, when the ghosting became apparent, I questioned if I should have involved the other two friends or said anything at all.
Taking offense to my inquisition, Jean blew up on me. While I felt bad that she was upset, I still hadn’t gotten to the bottom of the issue. Our names were on the line and I needed understanding. The conversation transcended between her best friend and I, who quickly made amends with me and moved on.
In that time, Jean dropped me without warning.
I saw her at our friend’s wedding, in which I was a bridesmaid, and immediately kissed, hugged, and told her I loved her. Though I wanted to know what happened in Miami, I never imagined it could end our friendship. From birthday parties to new apartments to navigating life as young Black women, we shared many special moments. To me, there were few things that could’ve ended that.
I noticed she became “quiet” on social media. Knowing her, I assumed she was taking time to process all that happened. When I saw her name in a mutual friend’s comment section, I squealed. Text messages had gone unanswered but now I knew she was alive…only she’d been ignoring me. Clicking on her name revealed she had unfriended me. I immediately checked Instagram and learned I was blocked there, too. DM’s went unseen and I now knew why.
“What did I do to her?”
Her best friend confirmed that she was processing and asked if she should intervene. After taking into consideration that my attempts were in vain and weren’t returned, I declined her offer and sent a message of love instead.
Despite who was right or wrong, how could I have handled the situation better? What should I have done differently? Looking back, was it worth it to ask those initial questions? Would I have inquired if I’d known this friendship would end?
For months I pondered those questions alone and with trusted friends for accountability. This particular ghosting was personal and painful, possibly to several involved parties. I could take a “new” person cutting ties with me. For it to be someone who’s been with me so long felt arbitrary and unbalanced.
I wondered what I’d tell my parents when they’d inevitably ask about her. Whether she’d bad mouth me to her parents crossed my mind, too. A close unbiased friend told me that “everyone can’t come with you in your new season.” But isn’t the best part about getting to that new place seeing your old, longtime friends smiling at you?
Theoretically, it made sense, but accepting this new fate hurt. Knowing that I could be so easily removed from her life did, too. Whether we speak again is up to God now. I just want her to know that I am here, open, ready and full of love, because that’s what friends do.