People Are Ghosting Long-Term Partners. Some Don’t Regret It

Dean met Nicole on Bumble in 2018, and they immediately bonded over their shared Chicago upbringing.

Nicole had kids, and they talked often about “wanting more than what we saw growing up in the environment we did,” Dean, a 37-year-old independent contractor, tells WIRED. They also both considered themselves more spiritual than religious, and were mentally, emotionally, and physically compatible. Best of all, “we rarely had a fight,” he says, “and could talk about any- and everything.”

They eventually moved in together and even talked about getting married, though he says the idea was one-sided. “She wanted to. I secretly didn't.”

In 2022, four years into the relationship, Dean says “she allowed her mind to be polluted” by “gender wars” discourse. As he saw it, she became one of those people who “attach themselves to feminism” and complained about men all the time. Even though Dean claims he is progressive, he says, “it wasn’t my thing” because Nicole had become overly negative.

It was around then that he started to get the ick. His mind was made up: Instead of talking to her about his frustrations, he blocked her phone number and social media accounts, one afternoon while she was at work.

In the months that followed, as Nicole attempted to get in contact with him through family members, Dean didn’t feel an ounce of remorse, only relief. “Like a weight was lifted off my shoulders. I no longer had to bear her energy.” (Citing privacy concerns, the ghosters WIRED spoke to for this story asked that they be identified by their first name only.)

Even now, he says he “absolutely” made the right decision.

With dating apps and social media determining so much of how people connect, ghosting—ending a relationship by ignoring or blocking the other person’s calls and texts, effectively icing them out—has become the breakup mode du jour.

According to a Thriving Center of Psychology survey, 84 percent of millennials and Gen Z say they’ve been ghosted at the end of a relationship. But while ghosting is widely accepted among singles during the initial stages of getting to know someone via the apps or as a means to end a situationship, it’s far less typical for multiyear relationships. In late June, Vogue UK shed light on the trend of “the disappearing boyfriend.” The article detailed the painful aftermath of women grappling with their partner’s sudden and shocking disappearance, noting how “many of these ghostings occur after things were seemingly going well.”

To address this new normal, Dating.com recently announced that it was hiring a “chief breakup officer” who, for $3,000 a month, would be tasked with ending other people’s relationships for them.

Naturally, ghosting is a lot easier when you’re communicating with strangers or people you know you’ll never run into again. When you know someone offline, there can be a greater sense of accountability, but even that doesn’t seem to always be the case anymore as expectations around communication are in decline.

In the r/ghosting subreddit, stories of long-term relationships ending when one person decided to completely vanish have become alarmingly common, as Redditors have tried to understand the psychology behind such abrupt and seemingly cruel detachment.

“I dated a girl for a year and a half. Out of the blue she said something in a normal discussion, and instead of having a conversation with her [about what upset me], I completely ignored her, walked away, refused to speak to her when she asked, and blocked her until she found out from someone else that we were done,” one commenter from r/ghosting tells WIRED over direct message.

Sumi, a 36-year-old resident of San Francisco, decided to abandon his 18-month relationship by ghosting his girlfriend. “I’ve been no-contact for about four weeks now,” he says.

Among Gen Z, terminating communication, romantic or otherwise, without any closure has become more pronounced. A recent survey by analytics firm Talker Research found that Gen Z are more likely to sever contact with a family member or loved one—60 percent—compared to older generations.

They often aestheticize estrangement by turning heartbreak into social content, as with the viral trend “I ghosted the [love of my life], trust me [I don’t give a fuck],” where young people pretend to act completely unfazed about former lovers by feigning extreme detachment. Some TikTokkers even added their own twists to the trend, posting about ghosting friends, parents, or their “entire bloodline” as a means of setting better boundaries.

“It’s important to keep in mind that Gen Z has grown up with dating apps and social media, so ghosting can seem like a normal part of the dating experience, even if it’s hurtful,” says Liesel Sharabi, an associate professor of communication at Arizona State University who specializes in the effect technology has on interpersonal relationships.

Sharabi adds that digital communication has made ghosting “easier and potentially more socially acceptable,” despite its harms. “We risk losing the humanity and decency we would want someone to show us when ending a relationship.”

There are ghosters who are emotionally immature, don’t take relationships seriously, or simply don't care about the impact they have on others. “But from an attachment perspective, I also see ghosting as a nervous system strategy,” says Becca Hansel, a Los Angeles–based therapist. Ghosters are often people with avoidant or disorganized attachment patterns, where “emotional closeness or conflict may start to feel threatening or overwhelming.”

For them, severing a relationship requires tolerating the discomfort of sitting with another person’s sadness or anger. But Hansel adds that some people who ghost aren’t doing it because they enjoy hurting the other person, even if it is an unhealthy coping strategy.

In some cases, ghosting is a means of escaping an abusive situation. “If someone doesn’t feel emotionally or physically safe, I don’t think they owe the other person an explanation,” Hansel says.

That’s what happened with Ashley, a 25-year-old education sales representative in Seattle. After nearly four years together she convinced herself that she didn’t want to feel the weight of breaking up with a boyfriend who started drinking a lot and became emotionally abusive. Instead of having a conversation about how everything went wrong, she ghosted him.

“I thought it would be easier for me to just disappear and for him to forget about it,” she tells WIRED. “He kept calling and texting me for quite a while after, for weeks, months, and years. And I just never ever picked up or responded again. I deleted all my social media accounts as well because I just didn't want to see any of it.”

Still, the difficult emotions often don't disappear even if ghosting is warranted. According to a 2025 study published in Computers in Human Behavior, ghosting has significant cognitive consequences for both parties involved, not just the victim. Compared to straightforward rejection, “the uncertainty and ambiguity inherent in ghosting” can create “more persistent adverse psychological effects” and prolong distress.

Ashley, who admits to having a pattern of avoiding difficult conversations in her life, says the decision still weighs on her. “I’d never broken up with someone in a really big relationship before, I had only been broken up with. Ghosting felt right at the time because I was scared of the outcome. It definitely wasn’t a great thing because it didn't do anything good for either of us. It still haunts me.”

Although she now believes people who get ghosted deserve an explanation “even if it hurts their feelings,” she never gave one to her ex, “and I don't think I ever will.”

Two years after they broke up, he had sex with Ashley’s then best friend, who later confessed about the hookup. “He did it to get back at me. So I won’t be talking to either of them ever again,” she says.