There’s this narrative that’s been whispered into women’s ears for centuries: “If you’re quiet, you’re cruel.” That silence means punishment. That walking away means abandonment. That choosing not to respond makes you the ghost.

But here’s the truth, in blood and bone:

I didn’t ghost you.

I stopped giving mouth-to-mouth to a connection that only lived when I breathed life into it.

The Shift Was Subtle, But It Was Sacred

At first, I thought maybe I was in the wrong. That going radio silent—after months of overextending myself—made me just as bad. That pulling away was immature. That I owed you one more reply, one more reach-out, one more moment of grace.

But then I sat with the silence.

And you know what I heard?

Peace.

Not punishment. Not a power play. Not pettiness. Just the quiet hum of my nervous system no longer spiraling in the void of your inconsistency.

Here’s What Really Happened

I didn’t ghost you.

I stopped chasing you.

I stopped writing both sides of the conversation.

I stopped managing the energy in the room so you wouldn’t feel uncomfortable.

I stopped pouring effort into something that only existed when I was the architect, the engineer, the electricity.

I stepped back.

And the entire thing crumbled.

Which told me everything I needed to know.

10 Signs I Wasn’t Ghosting—You Just Stopped Benefiting

Let’s call this what it is: a reclamation. Not a disappearance. Not an abandonment. Not some shady emotional move. Just a shift. A return. A quiet revolution inside me that said:

“No more bleeding for breadcrumbs.”

Here’s what that looked like:

The silence felt peaceful, not panicked. You never asked why I went quiet—just why I stopped giving. Our dynamic collapsed without my effort. The conversations died because I stopped directing the play. I didn’t slam the door. I just stopped holding it open. The need to explain myself disappeared. Your return felt like a pop-up ad, not a love letter. My loyalty was unpaid emotional labor. My anxiety mistook your chaos for chemistry. I don’t want revenge—I want rest.

So No, I Didn’t Ghost You.

You just got used to me over-performing.

To me initiating, repairing, softening, shrinking.

To me making your silence easier to swallow.

And when I stopped doing that?

It wasn’t ghosting.

It was a sacred extraction of my energy.

A timeline shift.

A return to my body, my truth, my peace.

I didn’t ghost you.

I just stopped showing up to auditions for a role I was never paid to play.

Signed,

Roxy Redrum

Patron saint of red flags set on fire.

Burning bridges I built alone.

And finally—finally—calling that healing.