Dean met Nicole on Bumble in 2018, and they immediately bonded over their shared Chicago upbringing.
Nicole had kids, and they talked often about “wanting more than what we saw growing up in the environment we did,” Dean, a 37-year-old independent contractor, tells WIRED. They also both considered themselves more spiritual than religious, and were mentally, emotionally, and physically compatible. Best of all, “we rarely had a fight,” he says, “and could talk about any- and everything.”
They eventually moved in together and even talked about getting married, though he says the idea was one-sided. “She wanted to. I secretly didn’t.”
In 2022, four years into the relationship, Dean says “she allowed her mind to be polluted” by “gender wars” discourse. As he saw it, she became one of those people who “attach themselves to feminism” and complained about men all the time. Even though Dean claims he is progressive, he says, “it wasn’t my thing” because Nicole had become overly negative.
It was around then that he started to get the ick. His mind was made up: Instead of talking to her about his frustrations, he blocked her phone number and social media accounts, one afternoon while she was at work.
In the months that followed, as Nicole attempted to get in contact with him through family members, Dean didn’t feel an ounce of remorse, only relief. “Like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I no longer had to bear her energy.” (Citing privacy concerns, the ghosters WIRED spoke to for this story asked that they be identified by their first name only.)
Even now, he says he “absolutely” made the right decision.
With dating apps and social media determining so much of how people connect, ghosting—ending a relationship by ignoring or blocking the other person’s calls and texts, effectively icing them out—has become the breakup mode du jour.
According to a Thriving Center of Psychology survey, 84 percent of millennials and Gen Z say they’ve been ghosted at the end of a relationship. But while ghosting is widely accepted among singles during the initial stages of getting to know someone via the apps or as a means to end a situationship, it’s far less typical for multiyear relationships. In late June, Vogue UK shed light on the trend of “the disappearing boyfriend.” The article detailed the painful aftermath of women grappling with their partner’s sudden and shocking disappearance, noting how “many of these ghostings occur after things were seemingly going well.”
To address this new normal, Dating.com recently announced that it was hiring a “chief breakup officer” who, for $3,000 a month, would be tasked with ending other people’s relationships for them.
Naturally, ghosting is a lot easier when you’re communicating with strangers or people you know you’ll never run into again. When you know someone offline, there can be a greater sense of accountability, but even that doesn’t seem to always be the case anymore as expectations around communication are in decline.
In the r/ghosting subreddit, stories of long-term relationships ending when one person decided to completely vanish have become alarmingly common, as Redditors have tried to understand the psychology behind such abrupt and seemingly cruel detachment.
“I dated a girl for a year and a half. Out of the blue she said something in a normal discussion, and instead of having a conversation with her [about what upset me], I completely ignored her, walked away, refused to speak to her when she asked, and blocked her until she found out from someone else that we were done,” one commenter from r/ghosting tells WIRED over direct message.
