Welcome to part deux! If you haven’t read part one: context, go for a quick stroll and come back here.

Like I was saying, I am one of those people that is driven by the why/what/how in things. I want to understand the people and the world around me, and one way I enjoy doing this is through data and research. After Tripp pulled the disappearing act, I put together a survey asking people about their own ghosting habits, and 50 humans chose to participate! While some of what you had to say confirmed my own suspicions (and conversations we all see online), this mini study also showed me that there is nuance to be considered.

With that I say, bon appétit!

First a little appetizer

1. 38% of women reported that they ghost because they feel a "lack of connection" with the other person. While 42% of male respondents cite “personal comfort” as their primary reason for ghosting.

2. The average self-rating for conflict resolution skills among women was 3.8 out of 5, with many describing themselves as "competent" or "moderately skilled.” Where the average for men was 3.2 out of 5, with more men acknowledging gaps in their abilities or describing their skills as "basic.”

3. 52% of respondents aged 18-30 see ghosting as part of modern dating. Contrasting with older age groups who were more likely to view it as disrespectful. This highlights a generational shift toward accepting more transient, less accountable dating interactions within digital contexts.

   

One of the most interesting things that emerged came from looking at the data through the lens of individualistic vs collectivist cultures

and how online dating (and the habits we have formed because of it) supports or is at odds with where we might fall on that spectrum. Here’s what these two terms mean:

Within individualist cultures, people are more likely to “see themselves as separate from others, define themselves based on their personal traits, and see their characteristics as relatively stable and unchanging”. Individualists tend to communicate in direct styles—they say what they mean, prioritizing that information is conveyed explicitly and unambiguously. European and “Western” cultures are typically more individualist.

In collectivist cultures, people are more likely to “see themselves as connected to others, define themselves in terms of relationships with others, and see their characteristics as more likely to change across different contexts.” A collectivist’s sense of self is defined more by who they are with other people, or by their membership in a group. Maintaining social harmony, getting along with others, and meeting social expectations are more important in collectivist cultures. They tend to communicate in indirect styles—collectivists imply what they really mean, but might say otherwise to avoid conflict or embarrassment. Asian and African cultures tend to be more collectivist.

Everyone falls somewhere on the individualist-collectivist spectrum. Research has shown that people shift along this spectrum, leaning more collectivist or individualist depending on the situation. This adaptability is more common in multicultural communities and contexts. It’s partly why we seek intercultural exchange: to adopt multiple cultural frames and learn to apply them in relevant communities and circumstances.

Using this spectrum as a framework, and knowing that 46/50 of the respondents were in the US, it was obvious that individualistic values creep into our dating lives, and that our race and/or cultural background impact our behavior and level of guilt (or lack thereof).

For example, participants from Black and Latine communities, where communal and family ties are often emphasized, felt a heightened sense of responsibility or contrition when ghosting, reflecting a cultural reluctance to sever social bonds without explanation. This tension between individualistic dating norms and collectivist cultural values seems to lead to inner conflict, where ghosting feels like a departure from culturally reinforced social responsibilities. In contrast, 59% of White respondents under the age of 35, characterized ghosting in pragmatic terms, suggesting a tendency to view it as a practical way to end relationships without the need for prolonged explanations. This efficiency-focused approach aligns with an individualistic mindset that views ghosting less as an ethical issue and more as a functional choice.

This even shows up when looking at participants who have an avoidant attachment style. These folks tend to be emotionally distant, fear intimacy, are hyper-independent and self-reliant, have difficulty trusting others, and are uncomfortable with vulnerability. While the core tendency to ghost as a way of avoiding intimacy or conflict was consistent across this group, the nuances in how this was rationalized and practiced varied among racial/cultural backgrounds (please note this is for all genders).

• White respondents with avoidant attachment styles tended to view ghosting as a logical and efficient way to avoid emotional entanglement. They frequently used terms like “practical” or “necessary,” reflecting a comfort with prioritizing individual autonomy over interpersonal responsibility. This group expressed the least guilt about ghosting, aligning with individualistic norms where personal boundaries are often emphasized over maintaining social harmony.

• Latine respondents with avoidant attachment styles showed more internal conflict about ghosting. While they avoided confrontation to maintain personal comfort, many expressed a sense of guilt or obligation tied to familial or cultural values emphasizing respect and community. They were more likely to engage in “soft ghosting” (gradually withdrawing communication) rather than an abrupt cutoff, reflecting an attempt to reconcile avoidant tendencies with collectivist cultural norms.

• Black respondents with avoidant attachment styles often framed ghosting in terms of “self-preservation” or protecting their emotional wellbeing, particularly in contexts where they felt disrespected or undervalued. This reflects a distinct approach where ghosting is seen as both an act of avoidance and a form of self-care. Similar to Latine respondents, Black participants were somewhat more likely to report guilt or ambivalence about ghosting, influenced by cultural norms that emphasize respect and maintaining community ties, reflecting horizontal individualism. However, they often justified their actions more explicitly as necessary for their mental health.

Isn’t that so interesting?!

As I saw this about White respondents, I remembered how in Hasan Minhaj’s latest standup “Off with his Head” he makes the following joke after telling the audience that in his family (and in all of Beige-istan) boundaries do not exist (which I, as a Dominican woman can relate to). The joke goes:

In Caucasia, you love your boundaries. “Boundaries!” “Hey, Mom? Boundaries!” “Mom? Hey, bitch, these are my boundaries, you bitch.” “I know I ripped through your vagina, but these are my boundaries, you bitch.” Not only are you obsessed with emotional boundaries, you’re obsessed with physical boundaries. You literally pick the boundaries for the entire world. [audience laughs] You’re like, “Oh… Africa, here are your boundaries.” “Asia, here are your boundaries.” “Middle East, here are your boundaries.” [transcript here]

I personally did not use boundaries as a term until I was maybe 29 when I started to go to therapy. I realized I had been working on establishing them with my mother and family since I was a teen, but had no language for it. I know boundaries is something my Latine friends enormously struggle with. I think of the last Latino guy I dated, whom after five months of dating tried the “soft ghosting” tactic on me. It triggered the shit out of my anxiety, so I called him in on it and ended the relationship. I’ve learned to be more direct that way (which I suppose is the influence of Caucasia). I think given the way Black folks in this country are treated and expected to take it in the chin, “self-preservation”, even within this hurtful setting, makes total sense.

The second trend to arise is how the digital etiquette we’ve co-created has normalized ghosting.

A 2023 study [Wu & Bamishigbin] framed ghosting as an evolution of the "silent treatment," intensified by digital communication tools. Respondents cited technology as a primary enabler of ghosting due to its ease of use and the ability to block/ignore others effortlessly. And 70% of participants in my survey would agree with that. The asynchronous nature of texting and messaging makes it easier to disappear without addressing issues. Wu & Bamishigbin noted that respondents often rationalized ghosting as avoiding a conversation that felt “unnecessary” in digital interactions​ because casual or early stage relationships “lacked depth or commitment.” In my opinion, this points to two additional issues. The first is that the majority of us agree that this is a problem (and the harm it causes), but no one wants to change their behavior about it. Monkey see, monkey do. The second is that while yes, these tools enable poor behavior, mindset also matters.

A 2019 study on belief systems in dating found that individuals with strong destiny mindsets (meaning people who believe that relationships are either meant to succeed or fail based on inherent compatibility, with little room for change or growth) often viewed difficult conversations as futile, convinced that if the relationship wasn’t “meant to be,” explaining themselves would not change the outcome. This mindset reduces the importance of communication and or closure, by conflating it with serious emotional labor. Instead, destiny believers focus on quickly moving on to find their "true match," thinking that prolonging a mismatched relationship is counterproductive. Participants with this mindset were 24.6% more likely to find ghosting acceptable after two dates or less, and 63.4% more likely to find it acceptable in long-term relationships​.

I related to the idea of the destiny mindset, but in a different way. For me, I don’t use it as a reason to cut someone off, or to not be honest about my feelings. Instead, it’s a reservoir that assists me in staying optimistic and patient about the process of dating, and the dealings of a connection not working out. I think to myself, “I feel it in my spirit that I will meet someone whom I am compatible with (intellectually, emotionally, and sexually), who is also up to do life together. With gusto. And that understands that we will probably get on each others nerves, but that it’s okay because we will find a way back to what truly matters. Making out”. Now that’s a destiny mindset we should all get behind!

All delulu aside, at which point do we start opting out of this mode of thinking/doing things, and start to operate in a way that changes this attitude? Don’t we want to get off the proverbial hamster wheel? Because if we’re waiting for dating apps to lead the charge, we might as well call it. Last month, I had a guy I matched with on Hinge tell me how he was aware that dating apps made him less of a gentleman, and how he felt they were leading him to self-sabotage. I could honestly hear the conflict in his voice.

I found that men in the dataset sometimes reported "indifference" after being ghosted, reflecting a potential gendered difference in emotional investment. For women, ghosting might carry a greater emotional toll, particularly if they expect more commitment. This can illustrate an unspoken digital rule where men might feel less obligated to follow up in dating contexts, while women feel pressured to adapt to a more detached communication style.

I for one, do not want to adapt to a detached communication style. I am not a nonchalant girl. I am very chalant. If I like you, I want to say it. If I miss you, I want you to know. And if you’re being an ass, you will find out. I would also want my sweetheart to do the same. Indifference and inconsistent conversation patterns is where all potential relationships go to die. It is the number one reason men I have had incredible banter and an initial connection with don’t make it past the first month. It’s emotionally wasteful. I hate it.

All in all, the dataset reveals that ghosting, while prevalent, doesn’t exist in a vacuum—it’s shaped by broader cultural, psychological, and digital norms that vary significantly across age, gender, and racial lines. This complex interplay highlights that ghosting is not merely a “bad behavior” but rather an adaptation to shifting societal values where convenience, autonomy, and self-preservation increasingly dominate our approach to relationships. It is a reflection of our digital individualism, and it has reshaped our definition of connection and accountability.

With that said, and with the caveat that if you do not feel safe it is okay to remove yourself from harmful interactions, I want to encourage you all to:

• Embrace discomfort as growth: Ghosting is often a way to avoid discomfort, but discomfort is where growth happens. By learning to sit with the unease of saying, ‘This isn’t working for me,’ you’re practicing a skill that strengthens all your relationships—romantic, platonic, and professional.

• Reframe the narrative of rejection: No matter how brief the interaction, choosing to end a connection thoughtfully is not rejection. By offering clarity, you’re acknowledging their humanity. It’s about you choosing to leave with clean energy, and carrying less baggage forward.

• Prioritize relational literacy: In an age of endless options, ghosting is a symptom of a deeper relational illiteracy. You can practice relational literacy by choosing connection over avoidance, even when the connection must end. It’s a skill that creates integrity and intimacy, even in closure.

Thank you to everyone who did the survey, I appreciate you! I’m sending you a virtual high five! Please share this wide and far. If I can get one person to change their mindset, that’s one less ghost we have to deal with.

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Until next time,

Your favorite’s favorite

PS- the encouragement is also for me <3