I’m just not that into the guy I’m seeing. Can I ghost him?

Breaking up is nearly always unpleasant. If you have to be a villain—temporarily!—how can you play that role with the greatest possible integrity and kindness? 

Ask Kai: Advice for the Apocalypse” is a column by Kai Cheng Thom to help you survive and thrive in a challenging world. Have a question? Email askkai@xtramagazine.com.

Dear Kai, 

I’m pretty much the worst gay in the world. About six months ago, I started seeing this guy who’s pretty nice, decently cute—you know, a good guy overall. But I’m just sort of… over it. I have been for months. But I can see that he’s getting more and more into me: he got me a really expensive birthday present (it was a fancy watch that he knew I wanted). He’s also started saying stuff like, “I really, REALLY like you” all the time (I think he’s gauging whether to say “I love you”). I honestly am not feeling it. There’s nothing wrong with him, he’s truly great. I just don’t feel that spark, yet I also can’t bring myself to say that to his little puppy dog face. I’ve just let things keep going, and the longer I wait, the more freaked out I get. When I spiral about stuff like this, I end up shutting down and ghosting. But can you ghost someone who’s been your default boyfriend for six months? It’s a horrible thought. I just don’t know what else to do. 

The Worst Gay

Dear The Worst Gay, 

You are in a very sticky situation, emotionally speaking, and with all the compassion in the world, I have to say that there is probably no way out of this without someone’s feelings getting hurt. The dating world can suck that way, and, what’s worse, we all have to take our turn playing the role of villain in someone else’s story. We are going to break hearts, hurt people’s feelings, do things that we wish we hadn’t done—this is a part of being human, and so please know that you are not alone. You are not, in fact, The Worst Gay in the world. You are just somebody who didn’t want to have a tough conversation, and so you let things go on a little too long (well, maybe more than a little). 

So the question is: If you have to be a villain—temporarily!—how can you play that role with the greatest possible integrity and kindness? How can you reduce the amount of hurt that could result from your next course of action? What can you do that will help you to look back with the least amount of regret?

I want to encourage you, in the strongest possible terms, to rule out ghosting (or doing the soft version of ghosting that consists of slowly pulling back emotionally until the other person is forced to break up with you—in some ways, that’s even worse). Ghosting is a short-term solution with long-term emotional fallout. Not only is it the least respectful way to end a relationship, it is also likely to be a source of serious shame for you moving forward. You probably already know this, but it bears saying explicitly.  

 

So what’s your other option? On the surface, it’s pretty simple: put on your big gay boots, own your feelings and tell him that you’re just not that into him. The complex part, of course, is actually doing that. How can you break through your internal shut down and work through the fear of letting someone down?  

In cases like this, it’s often helpful to be explicit about what the fear response is really about. Folks in your situation (and I have been in your situation!) often say that they are afraid of hurting others, and I imagine that this is true. As a therapy teacher of mine likes to say, no one wakes up thinking, “Today, I’m going to hurt some people.” But when it comes to avoiding difficult conversations, there’s often also hidden fear, which is the fear of how someone else’s feelings are going to make us feel about ourselves. No one wants to be the villain (or The Worst Gay in the World, for that matter). As human beings, most of us already harbour secret fears that we are bad and unloveable, and we believe on an unconscious level that having these fears confirmed by another person is not survivable. This is, I think, why we avoid tough conversations, even when doing so just makes things worse. When we reframe the fear this way, it opens up some new possibilities. We go from, “How am I going to make myself do this impossibly hard thing?” to “How can I make this tough conversation feel survivable?” 

The key here is to find some way of holding on to an inner sense of your own worthiness of love, even as you are telling someone something they don’t want to hear. You have to be able to hold on to the belief that you are a good—if imperfect—human being, just as all of us are. There are a wide variety of ways of doing this. 

“The kindest, most honourable thing to do is to own up to the mistake now and be direct about how you feel.

On an intellectual level, it may be worth thinking through the logic of the situation. Yes, you might have let the relationship go on too long, which is not ideal. However, it’s not the worst thing in the world, and you certainly aren’t the first to wind up in this boat. The kindest, most honourable thing to do is to own up to the mistake now and be direct about how you feel. This is the approach that’s most likely to keep a friendly dynamic intact, and your would-be boyfriend might even feel somewhat grateful to have been told the truth up front (of course, he might also not). You’re also most likely to experience personal growth from this approach, because having a hard conversation is something to be proud of, even if it is precipitated by behaviour you regret. 

On an emotional level, you might find it helpful to work with affirmations—coming up with a few simple but meaningful phrases that you can say to yourself before, during and after the hard conversation. Some examples are: “I am a good person even when I make mistakes,” “I can’t be perfect but I can be courageous” and “I’m doing my best in a tough situation.” The key is to make your affirmations meaningful to you and the situation you’re in. Talking things through with supportive friends could also help you to integrate the knowledge that you’re not a bad person just for breaking up with someone. 

Meditation or deep breathing can go a long way towards helping you stay present in the moment and get through the conversation. So can having a friend on standby to debrief with afterward. Rehearsing the conversation—yes, out loud, in front of the mirror or with a sympathetic person—beforehand might also help, if only because if you practice enough times, you won’t struggle so much with finding the words you need.

Remember, too, that reducing harm is an important concept in all of this: you don’t necessarily have to break up with this guy in person if that prospect is simply too overwhelming. While face-to-face breakups are preferred in mainstream culture, it is also effective to write someone a letter, especially if you take the time to make it a really thoughtful and sincerely kind letter. In fact, the best break up I ever had was via email—and I’ve stayed close friends with that person in the ten years since (it helps that they’re a professional writer with excellent emotional intelligence). While not ideal, even a phone call still gets your point across, rather than leaving someone in the agonizing limbo of being ghosted or slowly frozen out. 

You’re not The Worst Gay. You’re a gay who is still figuring all this hookup, dating and romance stuff out, as are we all. You’re a gay who, like most people, is afraid of disappointing others. You are, I’m pretty sure, a gay who is good at heart. So here’s what you have to do: be an emotionally resourceful gay. Be a self-compassionate gay. Be a gay who stumbles their way towards doing the right thing, even if imperfectly, because imperfect is infinitely better than not at all. Be a courageous gay. I believe in you.  


Kai Cheng Thom is no longer a registered or practicing mental health professional. The opinions expressed in this column are not intended or implied to be a substitute for professional medical advice, diagnosis or treatment. All content in this column, including, but not limited to, all text, graphics, videos and images, is for general information purposes only. This column, its author, Xtra (including its parent and affiliated companies, as well as their directors, officers, employees, successors and assigns) and any guest authors are not responsible for the accuracy of the information contained in this column or the outcome of following any information provided directly or indirectly from it.

Kai Cheng Thom is a writer, performer, and social worker who divides her heart between Montreal and Toronto, unceded Indigenous territories. She is the author of the Lambda Award-nominated novel Fierce Femmes and Notorious Liars: A Dangerous Trans Girl's Confabulous Memoir (Metonymy Press), as well as the poetry collection a place called No Homeland (Arsenal Pulp Press). Her latest book, Falling Back in Love with Being Human, a collection of letters and poetry, is out now from Penguin Random House Canada.

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