Oh to be ghosted...

Family bonds silenced and severed...

Ghosted. That term was originally used to describe the behavior of ending a romantic relationship, or a potential one. The behavior was used to avoid a difficult conversation or to spare the other person the pain of a breakup. Sure, it was easy for the one ghosting, but the bewilderment, the shock, and the unanswered questions left for the recipient were hard to process.

Today, many people, including parents and family members, are experiencing being ghosted — also known as the silent treatment. The latter is more of a form of punishment, loudly saying in its silence, “I’m mad at you.” “I don’t like what you have done.” “You have hurt me.” “I need to hurt you too.” Truly, without words, the actions of ghosting can have endless meanings.

Personally, I was raised by a generationally traumatized father who used alcohol as a normalized and acceptable coping skill. Since conflict management in his childhood home did not exist—his father was an alcoholic and his mother a victim of domestic violence—he managed his emotions in the same way. We were exposed to domestic violence growing up, in a time of secrecy, shame, and silence, if that was happening to you or your family. However, although my father never hit me, and thankfully never harmed me physically in a drunken rage, one of the things he practiced was the silent treatment. I remember throughout my childhood how my father would just stop speaking to me. To this day, I never knew why, and I naturally reflected it upon my worth, my value—surely it must be my fault.

As I grew up and had to process these childhood experiences with therapeutic support, I expressed my pain and bewilderment through writing. I still recall writing: “As I passed him in the hallway to my bedroom door, a mountain of silence between us.” Or something like that. It was my lived truth.

Now I have to say, I firmly and compassionately believe my father was doing the best he could. He had limitations, not just due to his own childhood, but also to his choices—dropping out of school in 8th grade, choosing to run his father’s tree business in a blue-collar field of work where it was not uncommon to work all day, not eat, and then drink. Intoxication was his relaxation skill. So as he lived through the emotional highs and lows of life, he would retreat into silence. He did not have the ability to put into words and appropriately express how he was feeling, especially when his kids were just kids.

I have no doubt there were a multitude of reasons we upset him—from childhood to teenage years to making shocking life choices that he could not embrace immediately due to his own generational experiences. I have no doubt there were times we overwhelmed him, and times when life itself overwhelmed him. Again, I hold a compassionate lens for this man, whom I loved as my father, for all the good and positive memories that exist amongst the mess.

Fast forward to today, and I see an entire generation of young adult children who choose to ghost their parents. Not perfect parents, but human parents who worked hard to give their children a life, most often better than their own. These are not children who were raised with domestic violence, alcoholism, drug abuse, neglect, or physical or sexual abuse. These are children who were raised in imperfectly loving, caring, and devoted homes. Many are also college-educated, and have a background of positive life experiences, yet they lack the ability or willingness to talk to their parents. They choose to ghost in order to avoid the hard conversations—or perhaps not hurt their parents, or possibly to silently declare their perceived harm.

The silent treatment causes immense harm. Parents are left swirling from this behavior, questioning their worth, their value, their own memories and intentions. Parents are left drowning in the wave of unanswered questions and the impossibility of understanding how their own child could treat them this way. Even I have to wonder about their choice. With the foundation given to them—is this really the best they can do?

It is betrayal trauma that leaves immense pain in its wake. Since communication is the key to relationships, it seems the key has been lost. I hope we can find it again for the generations to come, since life is not a solo sport. Family bonds matter.