I never knew what the term “ghosted” meant. Sure, it mostly refers to dating where someone completely cuts off all communication without an explanation. This sounds oddly familiar. Not from the dating realm but from being a freelance writer.
There is nothing more disconcerting than to be eliminated from what you thought was a regular gig. Freelancing is not a guarantee, of course. It comes with the territory that elimination can occur without my knowledge. I used to get caught up in the “what’s wrong with me” thinking. But, then my thinking shifted. You see, I am realizing that this space was given to me so I could concentrate on the creation of my book.
Tuesday, I wrote the final scene on my first draft. It was exhilarating to finish something that has been marinating for years. I made excuses. I was always consumed with other deadlines. I know now that the timing wasn’t right. Being ghosted might bruise my sensitive ego, but my willingness to not allow it to distract me is really a win. I would thank them, but well, I was ghosted, so there’s that.