Ghosting in Relationships: The Story I Never Thought I’d Be Brave Enough to Tell

Ghosting isn’t just for dating apps.

Sometimes it happens in the relationships that matter most. The ones built on love, plans, and promises. And if you’ve ever been on the receiving end of it, you know how heavy the silence can feel.

Jen and I had been dating for nine months. She asked me to marry her, and I said yes. It should have been the beginning of forever.

Instead, I packed up and left without warning.

Not once, but twice.

I didn’t just experience ghosting in a relationship. I was the one who did it to the woman I love.

The First Flight: How Fear Turned Love into Ghosting

Fear has a way of rewriting your story in an instant.

Jen had a temper back then. One night, we were arguing about chores, and she threw a plate on the ground. It shattered.

For some people, that might have been a bad moment. For me, it was a trigger.

I grew up around domestic violence. I had lived through it in past relationships. My nervous system did not see a broken plate. It saw danger. My body reacted before my brain could catch up.

Fight or flight kicked in.

I did not fight. I fled.

I left my engagement ring and infinity necklace on the bookshelf and disappeared. No explanation. No goodbye. I left Jen and her girls behind. I also left myself drowning in guilt.

The truth is, it was not just the plate.

I was carrying years of shame around being gay in a family where it was never acceptable. It was not discussed as a possibility. It was mocked. Condemned. Wrapped in religion and fear. So even though I was deeply in love, part of me still believed I was doing something wrong.

Add in the chaos of blending a family and kids fighting constantly, and everything felt overwhelming. Instead of slowing down or asking for help (because I had no idea that's what I needed at the time), I ran.

Not because I did not love her.
But because fear was louder than love.

The Herbalife Detour: Running from Myself

After I left, Jen and I still talked. I could not stay away. I was in love.

We worked through the plate incident over the next couple of months, and part of me believed we might find our way back to each other. But instead of slowing down and facing my fear, I threw myself into something else entirely.

Herbalife.

That is how we met. At a nutrition club. Getting my shake on. At the time, I was all in. I was determined to make it work, no matter the cost.

Then I went to a meeting where I was told that if I wanted to be successful, I could not be “messing around with dating.” And I believed it. I packed up my life again. For the third time in less than a year, I uprooted everything.

I loaded my two kids into the car and asked a good friend, shoutout to Jayme, to drive us six hours to Arkansas, where my coach was supposedly thriving in a new market.

At first, I kept talking to Jen. If I am being honest, I was stringing her along because I could not let go. Every time I came back to Oklahoma, I found a way to see her. But eventually, I convinced myself that if I was going to “get serious,” I had to cut her off completely.

So I ghosted her.

I acted like she never existed. Deleted. Blocked. Gone.

Except she was not gone. Not from my heart. I kept lying to myself and everyone around me, telling myself I was chasing a dream. That this sacrifice would be worth it.

It was not.

I moved in with my coach’s family. Ten people under one roof. Twelve hour days running a nutrition club. Pouring everything I had into something that gave nothing back. No money. No freedom. Just exhaustion and a toxic dynamic built on control.

The truth is, I was not chasing success.

I was running from myself.

💡Looking back, I see how often I confused growth with self-destruction. Burning yourself out in a toxic environment is not ambition. It is avoidance dressed up as hustle.

Now, I build my goals differently. With structure, limits, and tools that support my nervous system instead of overriding it. That shift changed everything.

The Dark Place: When Ghosting Leads to Growth

After fifteen months in Arkansas, I was done.

I walked away with one good thing, a real friendship I still value, but mentally I was in a dangerous place. Herbalife had taken everything from me. Physically. Emotionally. Financially. I gave everything I had and, in return, had a roof over my head.

I was angry. I was bitter. And yes, I know this was my choice. There are always multiple sides to a story. I am only telling you what it cost me.

So I packed up again and moved back to Oklahoma.

I did not even have a vehicle. My mom and stepdad came to get me, again. I was grateful, even though relying on rescue had never actually helped me break the cycle. I moved back in with them for what felt like the hundredth time.

But this time was different.

Something finally shifted. No matter what, I was done repeating the same pattern. This was the moment I stopped blaming circumstances and started taking responsibility for my own life. It took longer than it should have, but it mattered that it happened at all.

I was still broken. I was still ashamed. And I never stopped thinking about Jen.

Healing after ghosting does not happen quickly. I poured everything onto paper. The guilt. The fear. The things I could not say out loud. Writing became the only place I could tell the truth without disappearing. Spirituality helped too. It gave me something steady to hold onto when everything else felt like it was slipping.

Journaling became my lifeline.

Even after everything, even after the choices I made and the harm I caused, I never stopped loving her. And deep down, I knew I was not finished with her story or my own.

One day, standing in my mom’s front yard, I caught myself hoping again that Jen might drive by. Most days she went the other way. This time, I knew it was her. And I knew she saw me.

A few weeks later, she messaged me.

Yes, I had already unblocked her the moment I moved back to Oklahoma. I told myself I was giving her space, but the truth is I was waiting. Still, I did not feel like I had earned the right to reach out first. Rebuilding trust after ghosting requires humility, and I knew I had already taken enough without asking for more.

When her message came through, I felt everything at once. Relief. Nervousness. Hope.

There was also a hard truth. She was in another relationship. My heart sank, but we kept talking. Not about fixing anything. Just about life. Small things. Familiar things.

At that point, I knew what I wanted. But wanting someone back does not entitle you to them. All I could do was show up honestly and let my actions speak louder than apologies.

When she shared that the relationship she was in was not healthy, I encouraged her to prioritize her safety and well-being, regardless of where that led. I did not try to position myself as the answer. I focused on being accountable for the harm I had caused and clear about the growth I had done.

I apologized without expecting forgiveness. I named my mistakes without excuses. I told her the truth. That I had loved her all along, and that I finally understood why disappearing was never love.

The truth is, she had already forgiven me. That is who Jen is.

Finding our way back to each other was slow. Intentional. Built on changed behavior, not promises. We both grew in that time, separately and together.

Reconnection did not erase the past. It required us to face it.

The Redemption: Forgiveness, Healing, and Boundaries

After almost a year of dating again, Jen asked me to marry her. It happened in the driveway of my house. By then, I had bought my first home and finally moved out of my mom’s house. There was no big production. No elaborate setup. Just the two of us, standing in the middle of real life.

I said yes without hesitation.

In November, we will celebrated four years of marriage. Has it been perfect? No. We have struggled, especially when it comes to intimacy. Healing does not erase old wounds on a schedule. But I would not trade this life for anything. I cannot imagine my world without her in it.

Looking back, I can see the truth clearly now. Ghosting was not just avoidance. It was harmful. It was emotionally abusive. It left scars, not only on Jen, but on her girls as well. Naming that matters.

What also matters is this. Growth does not excuse harm, but it can change what comes next.

We both had work to do before we were capable of loving each other in a way that was safe, honest, and sustainable. We learned boundaries. We learned responsibility. We learned that love is not about disappearing when fear shows up, but about staying present and doing the work.

In the end, we did not choose a perfect story.

We chose accountability.
We chose healing.
We chose each other.

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Lessons on Healing After Ghosting

Ghosting leaves scars. It also leaves space for growth.

My story is proof that even in the messiest chapters, healing is possible. If you have ever ghosted someone or been ghosted yourself, you are not alone. We all carry fear, shame, and regret. We also carry resilience, forgiveness, and the capacity to change.

For me, healing came through journaling, spirituality, and honest self reflection. Those tools helped me find my way back to myself, and eventually, back to Jen. Your path may look different, but your healing matters just as much.

That’s why I created the Owl Be Honest Facebook group. It is a space for real conversations about messy middles, hard lessons, and the uncomfortable growth that happens between who we were and who we are becoming. You do not have to share if you are not ready. Listening counts too.

If this story resonated with you, you are welcome there.

💛 And if you are looking for gentle tools to support your own healing, I have gathered the ones that helped me most. Every resource I share is something I have used personally. I only recommend what truly supported my growth.

You do not have to disappear to heal.
You do not have to do it alone.