Have you ever been ghosted by a friend throughout your grief journey?

In case you’re unfamiliar with the term “ghosted,” check out this 2019 The New York Times article about why people ghost: https://www.nytimes.com/2019/01/22/smarter-living/why-people-ghost-and-how-to-get-over-it.html. Essentially, ghosting occurs when a person severs communication with another person without explanation.

The LAST thing I thought would ever happen after my mom died in 2012 was that a close friend would ghost me. But it happened.

Remember being a kid and pinky swearing? Sometimes, it represented a guarantee of secrecy between friends. The pinky swear not only signified togetherness in the moment, but also a forever bond. While I often equated this to childhood, as an adult, I continued to believe in the power of forever bonds. However, following my mom’s death, my perspective about the pinky swear covenant significantly shifted.

Unfortunately, being ghosted by a friend as you navigate loss isn’t all that uncommon.

This, I believe, is based in part in society’s craving for all things ‘good vibes’ and other toxic positive perspectives. In the face of loss, it’s inevitably difficult for a friend to embrace sorrow and truly empathize. Further, grief provokes such a significant level of discomfort that some simply can’t bear to witness or help carry the load.

What I discovered as I began my grief journey is that everyone is not equipped to walk alongside you.

I know this sounds harsh and may directly contrast with your view. Please let me explain.

Early in my grief process, fortunately, I had the support of several friends. They called. Sent flowers. Crafted lovely and supportive texts. And I appreciated what each person offered in that season. Nevertheless, as time moved on, I recognized the shift in attention directed towards me and my grief. Rather than the regular attempts to call or text, some relationships seemed to fade into the background.

I won’t lie, friend. My initial response to the relationship shifts was anger. I simply couldn’t understand how longstanding connections could melt away simply because my mom died. My emotional guards went up, and I began to question other’s attempts to support me. It was quite difficult to navigate for several years.

Being ghosted by a friend is weighty and confusing.

Here’s what I’ve discovered over 9 years after my mom’s death and almost two years after my dad’s passing.

• Grief changes you, and these changes can result in relationship shifts. I’m not the same person I was prior to my mom’s death. Good, bad, or ugly, my perspectives about life changed. My understanding about what I need most in relationships grew. And my ability to establish better boundaries to meet my needs improved. At the same time, each of these changes, coupled with the ebbs and flows of grief, created distance in my relationships with certain people. As time marches on, I’m better able to reconcile the differences in the relationships, which helps me keep my anger at bay. In addition, I’m much more equipped now to express and redirect feelings of anger.

• Other’s inability to carry my grief doesn’t make them bad people. Truthfully, this was a difficult truth for me to name in the beginning of my grief journey. My anger and disappointment towards those who I’d considered friends grew as they ‘failed’ to meet my expectations as I grieved. At this point in my journey, however, I understand that we’re all wired differently. Some of my friends have an inherent capacity to witness my pain and lean into it with me. Others rely on humor as a means of support. Finally, a few friends and I don’t ever explicitly talk about grief. On the contrary, we share thoughts about life in general, career updates, and upcoming shenanigans. I’ve learned that just because grief isn’t do-able for some doesn’t mean we can’t still connect in this wild adventure called ‘life.’

• It’s important to explore grief support from those who understand the journey. I remember the first time I attended a grief support group. My initial thought was how different I was from ‘those people.’ See I never wanted to be cast as the sad or angry Black woman. Years later, however, I chuckle at the reality that I’ve definitely been that person. And that’s OK. Honestly, there’s something powerful about allowing yourself to be surrounded by other grieving hearts who ‘get it.’ No explaining. No long backstory. Just the ability to connect with other folks who’ve walked a similar path. Friend, I challenge you to consider whether seeking out dedicated grief support might be beneficial for you. Along the way, you may just discover YOUR people.

The impact of being ghosted by a friend is overwhelming. It’s so messy and complicated … and occasionally beautiful.

What have your experiences been in relationships since experiencing a loss? What impact has your changing had on those closest to you? How might you communicate your needs with friends or explore new ones?

Here’s my challenge for you today, my friend.

Take a moment to reflect on what’s changed within you throughout your grief journey. Further, consider how others might be able to best support you, either by directly witnessing your grief or offering something else you may need. Finally, and most importantly, be gentle with yourself as you grieve.

Unfortunately, the process of grieving isn’t linear, clean, or predictable. What it can be, however, is one filled with self-compassion and understanding that as you’ve changed, relationships can change too.

I’d love to know your thoughts.

As always, I’m grateful for you!

XOXO,

M.

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