Parental ghosting
This was very common during our childhood summers. As soon as the sun rose, young people slowly started to surface. We were fed, then tenderly kicked out of the house with the complete expectation that we would be home in time for supper. In fact, if we came home before supper, we were asked if we were ok, or if someone bit us, or the infamous “what are you doing home? “We had no clip-on water bottles, no lunch box with cute heart shaped sandwiches or lunchables, no sweater, no snacks, no money, sometimes even no shoes – and definitely no cell phone.
Parental ghosting looked a little different than today’s “ceasing all communication and contact with an individual without any apparent warning”. At a young age, it usually started with the suggestion to go “call on your friends” – for those who aren’t familiar with that request, it meant to walk or ride your bike to any or all of your friends’ houses and ring the doorbell to see if “they can come out and play?”. If you were turned down, there was no depression or sadness – we just said “thanks” and moved on with determination to the next friend around the block.
Parental ghosting also included being treated somewhat like an outdoor cat, “He’ll come home when he’s hungry” they’d say – or we would find ourselves at a friend’s house where their parent would fill our belly’s full of bologna sandwiches and Tang, pat us on the head and send us out into the jungle again. No checking in, no calls, no messenger pigeons – nothing. It wasn’t rare to not see, talk or communicate in any way with your parents for 10+ hours every single day for those 4 summer months. Some say we were raised in an era of neglect, whereas I think we were gifted with trusted freedom. Technology and social media hadn’t taken that away from us just yet.
Our parents never really called or looked for us – unless we were late or needed to be somewhere. They just assumed that If we didn’t come home during those 10+ hours we had found food, water, someone to lend us a bathing suit to go swimming, a ride to the mall and back, an offer to watch a movie in an air-conditioned basement or were just hanging out in someone’s yard within a 4-street radius of our home.
There wasn’t any attempt at contact from your parents. Like at all.
And when we were home, we were pseudo-ghosted in person. There was the finger to the lips “shush”, the “talk to the hand” motion, or the “go to your room” gesture. And we can’t forget the “look”. We all know that one. Our parents had mastered the art of sending a message without saying a word. Ghosting in its infancy.
Being ghosted in the 80s and 90s taught us subconsciously that we could adapt, adjust, think on our feet, trust those our parents did, and because we knew our limit and played within it – our parents could sleep a little easier at night.
But think about that today, kids are so connected to everyone and everything – with cellphones, GPS, social media check-ins and hover-mothers monitoring and engaging in absolutely everything. And I bet being ghosted by a parent today wouldn’t feel very good since they’re so deeply rooted in our every move. Even for some of us at 42.
And tbh I don’t mind that my parents “ghosted” me growing up – they trusted us and believed it took a village to raise kids, and that our neighbours and friends weren’t just people living next door, but trusted extensions of our family.
Even though ghosting is negatively seen as a cop-out or a form of cowardice – but there is a lighter side to it as well. It’s meant to help us learn from that loss, embrace the space and understand that whatever that was, it wasn’t meant for us.
But don’t ever ghost a parent back. Seriously. I can feel my mom is telepathically grounding me right now for even mentioning it.
Love,
Patricia
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