As humans, we spend a good amount of time thinking about what other people think. Any opposition you might feel to this statement may stem from well-meaning advice givers, who in an effort to direct you away from self-criticism and anxiety, have assured you that what other people think of you doesn’t matter. But I believe that it does!

When we act, it’s likely and appropriate that we would think about how our actions affect others, and our thinking about others’ thoughts can also get more complex: we can widen our scope of inquiry by focusing on what someone thinks about the way we feel about someone else. These are not necessarily negative or maladaptive thoughts, on the contrary, these are complex ways of thinking — employed by the most socially skilled among us — to help us develop and maintain social connections. Although important, this way of thinking is not inborn; it is a sophisticated and critical skill that we hone over our lifetimes.

As toddlers, we don’t consider our effects on other people. We make demands, cry, and throw tantrums in an egocentric way, wanting only to satisfy our own needs and not caring about anyone else. It’s only as we learn more about the world between the ages of about three to five, that we begin to recognize that other people have thoughts and feelings, and that our actions might affect them. We also gain an ability to understand that others’ mental states might be different from our own.

This understanding gives us great power because once we realize we have thoughts and feelings, we can learn to control them. So, when we think about what others think, we can use it for its potential good and then dispose of it. Considering the average human has more than 6,000 thoughts per day, this type of cognitive purging would likely do us good, freeing up our resources for more positive thinking. But just like ridding our homes of unwanted items is a challenge for many of us, so is ridding ourselves of unwanted thoughts and feelings. Particularly if we’re prone to anxiety and depression, or dwelling on negative thoughts associated with past events.

Worry and rumination are also predicted by verbal intelligence, meaning that the more articulate we are, the more likely we are to have a ruminating and worrying mind. Therefore many of us find it difficult to shift our cognitive energy away from the past events that vex us and toward the things that give us joy.

Adding more fuel to embers of worry and rumination, the current landscape of social media makes it especially difficult because of the mostly permanent nature of our digital steps. Thirty years ago, when we self-evaluated our effects on others, we relied on imperfect and quickly fading memories of events to help fill gaps in our perceptions. Luckily, the mind can be forgiving to the self, forgetting some damning details of past events, and remembering the most promising via a pronounced positivity bias — a trick of memory that allows us to maintain our self-esteem and positive outlook. But today’s world of computer-mediated interactions is much less forgiving. Social interactions are often recorded permanently in messages and pictures that we can go back to view and review.

Letting go of others’ thoughts and our own online missteps might be especially difficult if our thoughts concern our close social connections, which are essential to our feelings of belongingness and love. This too is a natural human inclination: we are influenced by those around us. From the time we are babies, we watch and mimic others. We learn vicariously from the ways that others are rewarded and punished, and we adapt our behaviours so we can maximize rewards and avoid punishment. So, our social contexts matter, and approval and disapproval from others shape our future behaviour. Caring about what people think is a protective process, designed to help us develop connections and safeguard us against the loss of love from those with whom we share our closest bonds.

However, we may waste time thinking about the thoughts of people who aren’t among our closest connections. It is exceptionally difficult to discern the thoughts and motivations of those who are distantly connected to us and since these are our loosest connections, we might spend more time analysing our interactions with them because we are most uncertain about how they think and feel. Therefore, we can feel uncomfortable or distressed when we are ghosted in response to our social approaches.

Ghosting hits us at one of our most vulnerable weak spots: our desire to know. We have a need for closure. We want to know how things end. We want to understand how the world is working around us. When someone ignores us, it leaves us wondering — and wondering can be maddening. We are left craving answers about the relationship and unable to force them to come. And when those relationships are valuable to us, our anxiety increases as the hours and days tick by.

But the uncertainty related to ghosting is not what really causes us pain. Certainly, we want to know, but more than wanting to know, we crave human connection. Ghosting is a signal of a weak or strained connection. So, ghosting hits us at an even greater point of vulnerability: our desire to belong and be loved. Ghosting is a big red flag that we might be losing someone we love or someone we wanted to love. Therefore, if we are ghosted, we sometimes resort to desperate measures. We might reach out multiple times to the ghoster, even when continually ignored. We might start to follow the ghoster on social media.

Ghosting hurts us where we are most vulnerable. Ghosters know this, and yet they still choose to do it. If someone ghosts you, they are either playing a game or they don’t care about you right now. It is possible they might have lost their phone, or they may be super busy, but if someone really wants to talk to you, they will find a way. If they don’t, move on. Immediately. Don’t stalk them. Don’t obsess. Don’t waste a single moment scanning the internet searching for answers about whether they really care. Life is short, and time is precious.

 

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