When They Call It Ghosting, But It Was Really Survival

They say I ghosted them. They say I disappeared, walked away, cut off all communication – for no reason. But here’s what they don’t tell you:

They don’t tell you about the silences I sat through, feeling invisible. They don’t tell you about the one-sided support, the mocking, the emotional exhaustion that drained me. They don’t tell you about the years I spent giving more than I received. They don’t tell you I prayed, reflected, waited, forgave … Until the truth became clear: I wasn’t ghosting. I was surviving.

We’ve Made “Ghosting” a Catch-All for Accountability

Lately, I’ve seen post after post – especially on social media – about people being “ghosted”. Stories of best friends disappearing, years of friendship vanishing without a word. And while I understand the pain of abandonment, I also have to ask: Did you ever stop to ask why they walked away? Were you really there for them – or just used to them being there for you? Were you a true friend – or a silent weight they carried for too long?

No Contact Is Not Cruelty. Sometimes, It’s the Last Prayer You Pray Over a Dying Relationship.

There is a difference between ghosting and going no contact.

  • Ghosting is often thoughtless avoidance.
  • No contact is intentional protection.

No contact doesn’t come quickly. It comes after trying. After praying. After asking for mutuality and getting silence or shade in return. After realizing you’ve been standing in the light – and they’ve been drawing power from it without ever recharging you.

And then they call you the problem.

LIght Doesn’t Abandon. But Sometimes, It Must Withdraw.

Here’s something I’ve come to understand: People don’t walk away from light unless it’s too honest. Too bright. Too exposing. In fact, most people try to cling to light – especially if it helps cover their own darkness. So when someone with true light pulls away, it’s not rejection. It’s revelation. It means the light finally said, Enough.

I’ve Been Accused of Ghosting Too

People I once cared for deeply would probably say I ghosted them.

  • My mother might say she doesn’t know why I don’t talk to her.
  • A former friend might spin a story about how she was “always there” for me.
  • A workplace might call me the one who “couldn’t handle it,” while ignoring the toxicity I endured daily.

But I have journals. I have receipts. I have clarity.

They weren’t cut off without reason. They were cut off because the relationship became a mirror of their disrespect, not my worth. Because I chose peace over performance. Because I couldn’t’ keep living in a cycle where they thrived on my silence.

Everyone’s the Hero in Their Own Story

When someone walks away from you, you have two choices: \

  1. Demonize them to protect your ego.
  2. Examine the role you played.

Too often, we choose the first.

But if we’re honest, some people didn’t ghost us – they grew. They changed. They healed. And healing sometimes requires disappearing from those who benefit from your brokenness.

What You Call “Ghosting” I Call Obedience

No, I didn’t ghost you. I outgrew you. I outlasted pain. I obeyed the nudge that said walk away before you lose yourself completely.

And now? I don’t regret it. I don’t wish you harm. But I no longer need to explain why I chose silence over suffering.

You can call it ghosting. But I call it survival. I call it healing. I call it self-respect.

And if that makes me the villain of your story – so be it. At least I’m no longer the one bleeding quietly to be loved.

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