I was so excited when I met a new girl who came to my church one Sunday morning.
After just one conversation, it was clear we had a million things in common. We both had a passion for fitness, shared similar degrees and we worked in the same field. Not only that, but we had the same aspirations in life.
In just a week's time, we had already exchanged numbers and hung out multiple times.
Friends are hard to come by once you graduate college and enter the new world of “adulting," so I made sure to hold on to this one.
We went to a life group together, shared our deepest struggles and accomplishments with one another and even trained for a cycling event.
The cycling training had us together nearly every other day. She pushed me to pedal faster, work harder and not give up... even when my body felt like it would die at any moment.
As the race day neared, I kept wondering how we were going to get to there. It was something we had never talked about.
She had asked me to train with her, and I just went with it. Were we going to ride there together? Were we going to split a hotel once we got there?
Originally, I had just assumed we would go together. But as time neared and the driving situation was never brought up, I knew something was changing.
Once the race weekend arrived, she told me she was staying with another friend who was also participating the race — a friend I didn't know and wasn't invited to stay with.
At first, I couldn't help but feel betrayed. We had trained together for months and now she was doing the race with another friend, leaving me behind in the dust.
Sounds dramatic, I know, but that's exactly what happened.
When the race day came, we started off together at the same pace, but she left me behind, leaving me to complete a two-hour long race by myself. In the end, she only finished one minute faster than I did.
After the race, I kept my spirits high, but she, on the other hand, acted like she didn't know me. I walked alone back to my car and drove the long drive home by myself while she stayed back to party with her other friend.
Since then, we haven't trained together once. At church, she sits with someone else. The text messages I used to receive daily ceased to exist.
It's not like I didn't try to keep our friendship together. I asked her to come cycling, which she brushed off. I event went to her bridal shower, where I was largely ignored.
After two months not only wondering what I did wrong, but I making excuses as to why she wasn't hanging interested in hanging out with me anymore. I came to the conclusion that I had been ghosted.
I was now faced with two choices: I could confront her about why she ghosted me, or simply let it be. I went with the latter.
Rather than dwelling on reasons as to why this friendship had failed, I focused on developing existing friendships with people who I knew always had my back. Asking this person why she had dropped would only leave me with a hurt self-esteem — and an even more awkward situation.
At some point throughout our lives, we will all be “ghosted,” and whether it's by a boyfriend or a friend, it's going to hurt.
But hold your head up, girl. You're better off without them.