I am getting ready to leave Berlin. I’ve left Berlin before, but this time, I can feel it, this departure is real—final in a way that lingers, settling into my bones like an undeniable truth.
I'm saying goodbye to every corner, every shop, and every street that has shaped my biography over the past nine years. Each step feels like a farewell to a version of myself that grew here. I have spent my most formative years in Berlin. I have grown into an adult in Berlin.
Of course, my days are filled with parting moments—not just with the city, but with the people who have shared its magic with me. And then there are people I won’t say goodbye to. Some have transitioned to a new city, some have transitioned to a new realm. And some… some, like one person in particular, carry a farewell too heavy to speak aloud.
Almost a year and a half ago, I was ghosted by the person I hoped I’d spend a significant part of my life with.
I feel pretty hesitant using the term ‘ghosting’ for this relationship, because as it turns out, this was the most effective way for them to keep themselves present in my life, without having to face the ramifications of the hurt we’ve shared.
Ghosting isn’t just about vanishing from someone’s life, it’s about the shadow that lingers long after. The absence isn’t just an ending—it leaves an imprint, a lingering presence that shapes how we move forward. Ghosting is a silent presence that still dictates the terms of ‘connection’. Ghosting isn’t about vanishing from someone’s life, it’s about controlling it, from afar.
Dolce Far Niente, 2018
Like any relationship, we’ve both hurt each other—sometimes deeply—and this piece is not here to paint a horrible picture of this person, but to honor the complexity of what we shared and the impact of what was left unsaid. I have loved this person in ways I never had imagined before meeting them. They were my first t4t relationship. I fucked up a lot. I learned plenty.
But one thing is certain—I could have never ghosted them. In fact, if it wasn’t for them leaving me, I think I would have never left (which is a problem on its own… that I am still excavating in therapy!).
When I told my therapist, “I would never ghost someone I love after hurting them,” she pointed out that this very belief might be the reason I find myself trapped in an endless loop of thoughts about this person.
When we say things like, “I would never do what this person has done,” we reinforce the already well-established idea that people are fundamentally different from us. And beneath those words, we’re asking—without asking—“Why aren’t you more like me?”
The answer to that question is pretty simple and obvious—so obvious that we keep overlooking it. They will never be us. But to ask it outright might force us to confront a pain we’re not ready to face yet. The truth hurts.
Ghosting creates an empty space. The brain is wired to seek patterns, meaning, and resolution—and the brain struggles with uncertainty, ambiguity, and emptiness. In absence of data, the brain makes up stories. When faced with a gap in understanding, the mind often fills it in with stories, assumptions, or repetitive thoughts. This is why when we look up to a cloud, we naturally try to shape it into something familiar: a dog, a bird, a plane…It is our way to find a sense of comfort in the chaos that the unknown creates.
The brain is always looking for closure, even if it has to create its own. The stories ghosting bring to the surface of our skin are the ones we’re most familiar with, or at least the ones we’re convinced to be true, for as long as we can remember.
Ghosting becomes this giant button that activates all our deepest wounds at the bottom of our soul.
It becomes the ultimate proof that we are unlovable, unworthy, too much, not enough (both are different sides of the same coin), that we are doomed to DIE ALONE and NO ONE WILL NEVER EVER LOVE US FOR WHO WE ARE BECAUSE THERE IS SOMETHING WRONG WITH US.
For a while I believed that running into my ex on the streets of Berlin would finally give me the closure I have been desperately seeking.
I played out all the possible scenarios:
Ignoring them,
Looking down and walking past,
Saying sorry,
Punching them in the throat,
Asking questions, like:
Was I just a rebound?
Was the connection we had completely in my head?
Had they planned this exit?
Had they felt bad for ghosting me?
Did they believe I deserved it?
Do THeY HaTE MeEe???
I’ve slowly come to terms with the fact that this was a strategy my soma had built to avoid facing the painful truth that no answer to these questions would make this better—would make me feel better. There are no reasons they could give me that would ever make it okay—only excuses.
What I wished was to be treated with respect. I desired to be treated with care. And I wasn’t.
All those questions really boil down to one:
Am I lovable?…
And whether I am lovable or not is a question that can’t be answered by anyone else but me.
We might live in circles, but some circles will never be complete. Some circles of truth might be broken by those we love—and who claim to love us—for reasons that, if we're honest, would never be enough to justify the pain.
Ghosting is avoidance, at its peak. It’s cowardice, for sure. But the reasons why people ghost have often nothing to do with us, and everything to do with them. I’ve noticed many times that highly avoidant folks tend to be just as —if not more— avoidant about their own lives. My ex had been stuck for 11 years in a degree they were supposed to finish in 3. They were extremely anxious about their internal world, for reasons I am sure I barely understood at the time, and that turned me into collateral damage.
While it’s never our job to predict how someone might hurt or harm us, there are precautions we can take to recognize if someone’s avoidance patterns will affect us down the line.
Are they avoidant with themselves?
Do they avoid parts of their lives all together (and probably use you as a way to “forget” what keeps them awake at night)?
Are they anxious about their internal world (I believe avoidant folks tend to be anxious about their own internal world and vice versa!) and refuse to face it?
When conflict arises between the two of you, do they choose to leave the relationship instead of asking for change?
I have also noticed that often, avoidance starts with a phase of love bombing.
Whether it’s a way to distract themselves from internal anxiety or a way to confirm they are lovable, avoidant people tend to enter a relationship like a rocket—quick, intense, and with little thought for the aftermath:
Are you being love bombed? Are you love bombing them?
Yes, this is a call-in for all my U-haul lesbians out there! I love y’all, but moving that fast with someone is often nothing more than a trauma response. A crush is a lack of information. And it’s precisely this lack of information that often excites people who’ve been deeply neglected in the past. (In my last post, How Neglect Wires Us For Obsession, I dive deep into that.)
Folks who keep being drawn to avoidant partners often develop a need to be in relationships where they can help—because deep down, they don’t believe that their mere presence is enough. Being unsure of my own worthiness has manifested as constantly needing to be in service to others. I am slowly untangling this pattern from my authentic selves, but one thing I can say now is that helping might also be a way for anxious folks to control (making themselves needed in the relationship because they are so scared to be abandoned).
So, here are a few reminders for you, dear anxious folks:
Saving is not loving (!).
No one needs to be rescued from themselves, because there’s no way out of ourselves (!!!).
There is a difference between help and support.
HELP:
Is the sunny side of control
Often based on judgement
Takes away our loved ones’ agency: we do what we think should be done
Tied to the outcome
Rarely gets us any thanks
On the other side, SUPPORT:
Comes from compassion (=empathy + action)
Centers curiosity, questions & openness
Centers our loved ones’ agency & sovereignty: “how could I support you best? What do you need right now? Let’s figure out what you might need”
Favors connection & care
Here are the questions I ask my selves before putting my cape on:
Am I hurting myself to save them?
Am I doing for them what they need to do for themselves?
No one wants to be speed-fed the answers, but they probably need someone to sit with them as they make mistakes.
So, sit down.
If you’d like to read more, I published a zine on Queer Relations: How to explore, discuss and reshape the ways in which we relate to ourselves & each other, despite trauma. And I will soon give a workshop on the same theme. If you’re interested in being the first one to know, make sure to fill your name and email here.
Thank you for witnessing me,
Care
Such honor of the visceral ache of longing for more than what is available. Thank you for opening up this resonate frequency to explore.
This made me tear up a little 🥲 I feel so seen in my experience thank you! I’ve been processing this ghosting for so long.