The Ghosting Chronicles
Hi friends!
I KNOW you've all been wondering where the eff I went--two newsletters back to back and then silence for two months. Srry , I kno that must have been hard <3 !!
But I'm here now, via substack bb! I don't know how I was in the dark abt this ~slick~ platform. Here I was: manually adding emails one by one, deleting emails ,mistyping emails, fwding, and refwding, forgetting. And now I've seen the light, discovered A Better Way.
(For those of u who submitted emails but never received the first two newsletters b/c of my big time user error, you can reference 1 and 2 on my page. Apologies and STOP here, read or skim at least Super Platinum Berries first)
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The Ghosting Chronicles: Intro
Ghosting has become synonymous in the dating world with Trash Human. The reputable source, theverywellmind.com defines ghosting as "ending contact with someone without giving them any explanation."
By this definition, and likely according to the reciprocators of my inaction in the dating world and beyond, I have a problem…improving by the day, a problem others also fall prey to, but a problem nonetheless.
This newsletter chronicles and then investigates my ghosting propensity that you all are, almost, victims of. You've got to label the trash to take out the trash amirite??!
Before we dive into the trash, what ghosting isn't:
A fizzle. If you have only been on 1-2 dates with someone and that someone never texted you asking to hang again; PLZ DO NOT Initiate a text lamenting ,
“ So so so Sorry. I am so. Sorry. You seem really great. I loved getting to know you. But. It’s Not Going to Work At This Time”
Say less. In fact, I am insulted you texted declaring your disinterest. I found you insipid too my sweet, sweet boy.
The Chronicles:
I’ve ghosted three therapists, hinge dates (only early stages tho), coworkers old and new over "coffee TBs", friend of friend dates, open mic emcees, my to-do list items; and the worst as of late, sitting in ghost purgatory with hope for redemption: my spiritual director and my newsletter subscribers.
Examples:
Cutie Latino Hinge Date I Wanted To Like But Didn't, Ghosted Him; Ran Into Him On the Street Two Months Later and I ASKED HIM TO HANG (?!), Ghosted Him Again Without Hanging.
Mexico City Martín, had a big heart, a warm and gregarious personality, and a glowing smile. The ICK was birthed not from lack of chemistry itself--I've sat through flatter conversations and seen flatter asses-- but from his inflated perception of the chemistry. A big talker, he spoke of a vibrance in our vibes that his loquacious monologues muted for me.
I didn't full on ghost at first, but rather deflected, deflected with an I'm busy and I'm busy. I wanted there to be more as I liked his core, with time maybe my mind would change, he’d settle in and talk less. I also didn’t feel I had the words he to explain how I really liked him, but not enough to give him my time.
When I ran into him a few months later, we chatted about the protagonists of busy and I ended (thought I ended) the convo with a
"SO GREAT TO SEE YOU. WE SHOULD HANG AGAIN SOON." Of which, he responded, “ Yes!! join me tonight for a concert!"
And I responded
"YEAH. FUNNNNN!!! Maybe. YeaUHH,,,Txt me"
Why, why were these the words out of my mouth when I had so many chances to text him if that's what I wanted?
In the moment, melting in his smile in the middle of Haight street, I thought Cutie Martín, I'd see you again, friend!
And also, that statement, the "Great to see you, let's do this again soon" type , regurgitates out of me as if it was the necessary code to seal all social interactions.
So I said it, forgetting my past ick, thinking only of who he has the capacity to be in Super Platinum Berry land.
I did not make said event nor respond leading up to said event.
(And I AGAIN followed up saying I WANTED TO SEE HIM AGAIN (?!?!)))
I cannot remember if I did or did not go to church, but I didn't text him back. Haven't seen him since. Will let you all know if I do!
2.Emcee of Open Mic Night
I did not have Covid, nor did my roommate "somehow (?!?!) just test positive"!
It felt like too much to say,
“Hi Connor, so sorry I am not going to make it tonight, or ever.
You see, I have a dream, a dream like you Connor, of being a famous comedian. In this dream I have my own talk show where I give away free cars, drink Coffee in Cars with Jerry Seinfeld, and I am branded all over Pete Davidson's body.
I messaged you In a fleeting Monday Morning Moment where it seemed absolutely bananas that this dream, this dream I was made for, wasn't my reality, and my reality, running SQL queries for a food delivery company felt like a dream, a bad one.
How did I get here? Who put me here??
And in that electric moment of comedian conviction, I messaged you--ready to chase my dream. Standing next to you, mic in hand, at Mike's Pizza and Beer in front of 10 amateurs who work in tech sales by day, on a Monday night at 10 PM for a free Coors Light was step 01 to realize this vision. I was made for Mike's!
But then, this morning, the morning of the night I asked you to "squeeze me in" at Mike's weeks ago if I "brought a crowd", I realized while I want to be Jerry's Best Friend and Pete's Best He's Ever Had, I'd rather be anywhere, do anything, receive an endless stream of error messages on my queries where at least I'm in my PJs, than up on stage, at Mike's Pizza and Beer, past my bed time, lukewarm Coors Light in my hand.
So, yeah, despite me bribing you with an audience, I won't be making it tonight, or any night.
Thanks for your efforts! Break a leg up there. I hope someone brings a crowd.
Best,
Jodie”
3.Spiritual Director Margaret of "San Damiano Retreat: a ministry of the Franciscan Friars of the Province of St. Barbara"
Margaret and I met once over zoom. We ended the meeting by scheduling our next meeting. Upon reflection after, I didn't want to meet with Margaret again, and blessings abound to me, she asked to reschedule.
*sent email, two voicemails, and these texts trying to reschedule.
What My Feelings Would Say:
“Hi Margaret,
It was great meeting with you. While we, I, always have room to grow closer to God, I don't feel like you are the one to bridge that gap. I loved the idea of you-- My very own Spiritual Director! Release me of my sin, make me more like God, Oh Wise One.
But the reality of you didn't live up to my expectations. Your advice--hackneyed, your questions--shallow. You can't fix the church or my heart, unfortunately.
So, no, I don't want to reschedule. I gave an emphatic "yes" to a follow-up session because I still struggle to say "no" on the spot. Your conflict gave me an out, releasing me of this commitment.
I keep delaying my response because a) the words fail me and b) maybe I'll change my mind (?) What if better words come to me? What if your faith-filled, doe-eyed line of questioning is what I want in a few months?
Peace and blessings Margaret. Sorry I couldn't receive the peace you had to give.
Here's a nice song.
Jodie”
One month later I did respond (baby steps!), but why say No when you can deflect, deflect, deflect.
Margaret continues to reach out. I’ll get back to her next week.
You've seen some of the facts, now time for:The Investigation
I've observed 4 phases of Being in my life. These phases may not be MECE to all, and we all know adults or peers, who will never get beyond the first or second phase. But I've observed the below in my own life:
Phase 1
The first 15 years of life was living and feeling without thinking about the living and the feelings. Give yourself bangs, spill everything and cry over spilled anything, throw the Legos, eat all the colored powdered sugar you can find, and laugh at who or what makes you laugh--cancelable or not.
Phase 2
The next ~5 (late teenage + college) was about discerning why we live, why we suffer, and pushing against boundaries someone told us makes life. What rules aren't worth following, what it means to be enough, what it means to be free, what it means to love God , your God, is there a God?
Phase 3
Early 20’s you are dissecting why you do what you do and learning how to color within the boundaries you defined in Ph 2. You are figuring out the strokes that don’t work and why across each pocket of your life—why in work you are never enough, why in play you don’t play freely, despite the knowing, knowing you are loved, you are More Than Enough. You draw lines from your past self, your parents past selves, to your present Work, Play, Relationship selves.
Phase 4
The more familiar I've become with these lines of operating that I trace in my sleep, I've unlocked one palindromic pattern —beckoning me to where I am now, my current phase, seeing in all things the enmeshment of these selves. "Our strengths are our weaknesses" someone wise once said.
My Pattern
The self that ghosts, procrastinates, leaves keys in the kitchen cabinet, never finishes a to-do list, stays in relationships waiting for a better you and a better me, the initiator turned bailer, the self-deluding part of me, is fueled by the same part of me that dreams of chimeric Super Platinum Berries (which I'm doing when I put down my keys), sees the Goodness behind the pain, seeks Heaven on earth, cooks, dances, writes, hopes and believes and prays for a better tomorrow.
My present self is optimistic about future me. I say YES to Margaret, galvanize the weekend trip to Hawaii, plan the dinner with you because I, in that moment see a beautiful supercut of those experiences packed with potential, I see a self with infinite multiverses I want to come true and be true.
I believe my future self will be better apt to accomplish said task than present . The best man for the job tomorrow morning me (always morning me) , or three weeks from now me when work dies down, when I’m on vacation in Mexico.
Mexico, where I finally wrote 90% of this newsletter:
I have had my Shakras aligned, the lines of palms read by a Mexican soothsayer and the lines of my face smoothed by a microdermabrasion-ist. I attempted all 84 asanas in a two hr “avanzado” yoga class led in Spanish.
Rested, caffeinated, three poops lighter, carried by looser hips, and holding the new knowledge both of my future and that avanzado means advanced, I feel Some Type of Way and deliver these words to my pink iPad 7, the trusted writing vessel that I didn’t choose, but chose me.
I feel the type of way that makes me type away. The type of way that birthed newsletter number 1: I smell fresh picked flowers in the vase that holds fake ones; I record the airline password I reset to book a flight in my notes tab labeled “passwords”. I want to squeeze everything good, hard, life-giving and life-sucking into this narrow window of feeling.
This feeling feeds my habits of ghosting, procrastination, emphatic “Yes’s” that dissolve to soft “No’s”, and the delay in this newsletter. I push all tasks desired and not to future me, once again sitting in this headspace, with new knowledge, skills, words for the wordless.
Why give the job to the weakest link? You say procrastination, I say delegation, delegation amongst versions of myself.
The more arduous or valuable the task, the more likely I am to future delegate.
It would be irresponsible, really, to start growing my own food until I’ve annotated each chapter of The Vegetable Gardener’s Bible.
This Some Type of Way feeling catalyzes not just the "Yes's" but the "Yes'"s descension into "No's". I covet the Some Type of Way feeling. I fear losing this feeling. Any 2nd drink, late night out, or over-socialized soma, jeopardizes the Tomorrow Morning, Some Type of Way Me primed to conquer a million new Yes's.
Resolution:
I'm working on being more realistic with myself and others by: differentiating b/t soft and hard Yes's and communicating the drivers of soft in a timely manner, sending the 90%, closing the loop on to do list items--> even if I remove it, CLOSE IT.
I now release any physical task that involves putting pieces together. I will never build the Amazon storage shelf that's been next to my dresser for 9 months, I will not hang pictures up, I will not add the water bottle holder to my bike. It's a no.
I will continue showing up for myself and for you, giving grace when you ghost me, receiving grace, dreaming, cooking, praying, writing, deleting and re-downloading Instagram, releasing perfect, using a key chain.
LOVE,
Jodie
sent from my iPad