On the “Ghosting” Phenomenon

Those who are close to me already knew my deep penchant of suddenly disappear out of the face of the earth. Apparently in today’s digital world, where connectivity seems to be an all-time necessity, evaporating yourself out of the realm has become more and more of a phenomenon known as “ghosting”.  I exactly understand this kind of behavior, because I’ve done it a couple of times in the past. And if someone should asked me what makes me pull the ghosting act, I honestly couldn’t find a direct answer. Maybe because I am too much of a coward to admit my cowardice to face every troubles (I’ve been fleeing about); or maybe because I have a multi-layered psychological problems which I cannot pin-pointed what exactly they are; or maybe because  I actually realize all the reasons behind it, but just too ashamed to even speak it out.

And now I guess I’m getting a taste of my own medicine, by ghosted out by a guy I’ve been in ldr with for more than a year now. Experiencing being ghosted out from the perspective of a person who has been ghosting off herself is truly insightful. It made me a bit more self-aware, and in contrast to some of my female friends who’d been ghosted out by guys too, I can be calmer on approaching the problem. And in the spirit of being the object of this phenomenon, I reflected upon my flaws years ago.

Once, I had this huge crush over a girl (yes in my youth I fell for a female friend) which I kept by myself for years—resulting in a numbers of cheesy-silly poems. During my attraction to her, we kept being good friends even after she moved out of town following her husband’s workplace. But in the sixth year of our friendship, I pull out my ghosting act. No, not because I wanted to put a distance from her, or to be in a healthier mental state—because I cannot have her. It’s just something I do frequently: having my routine crumbled because of my moody tendency, and when I faced off with a dead end concerning an issue (could be work-related, family troubles, romance or friendship, hell even an internal conflict), I’ll shut myself out, and just ignore my social sphere for quite some times; and on this occasion, her included.

I remember, she  sent me an imported copy of one of Jostein Gaarder’s book (my favorite writer at the time), perhaps hoping to finally reached out to me and finding out why am I avoiding her. But… I kept ghosting her out. My, how I feel so so bad now, remembering it. It is not her fault that I was depressed at the time, but during this phase, I tend to just ignored everyone out, including her, someone whom I placed in a highest regard at that time. And this has done a permanent damage now. Even though still civil to each other, we’re not buddies anymore L.

I’m still doing this ghosting act even today. But lesser and lesser in scale and intensity over the year. A numbers of effort had been made, including consulted to a psychiatrist (which I skeptically distrusted) and  ended in a deduction that I might suffer from bipolar. I hated the medication, I hated the consultations, and I felt that they might made a false diagnosis. I tried to self-researched hoping to finally overcome this habit of mine. And to avoid denials and over-analysis, I tried to be blunt and completely honest with myself, it ended up in a very simple keywords: impulsiveness and chronic procrastination, coupled with a sense of self-worth and ego. Keywords I am now openly trying to have grasp upon and overcome with.

I believe in Occam’s razor adage: “among competing hypotheses, the one with the fewest assumptions should be selected.” I’ve opt for the simplest answer to my own trouble, for I believe I’ve sorted out all the far-fetched probabilities and assumptions.  Yet in the multitude elements involved in another person’s psycho-socio-cultural maps, there are countless numbers of problems that could be happened; and in the sea of multiple assumptions, one is best to not assume at all.

And so, instead of thinking of the myriad probabilities about why this guy ghosting out on me, I shan’t draw any conclusion at all. And in the spirit of being self-reflected and insightful, I need to realize that all the icky feeling of being ignored, disregarded etc. has somehow befell upon those whom I’ve been ghosting off too all those years behind J. Yep “you shouldn’t  judge a man until you’ve walked two moons in in his moccasins.” And the proverb should be applicable for the people I've disregard and also to this guy who've been ghosting me out.

Bewbies

One single outing to a public event, and I can count more than enough  male's gazes went south to the tender area of my chest. Perhaps it was my tight t-shirt that came into their attention, or perhaps it was just my new-found observance upon this matter, because apparently all men's gaze will naturally shifted to that area of our body. Be it those superior to us or an office boy at work; be it those old geezers or a hormonal teenagers; be it a goody two shoes and pious gentleman or an openly witty perverts. Valar boobsulis, all men must adore breast.

It is said that human male are the only mammal who fixated on two bulges of fat drooping on their counterpart-gender’s chest. Why are they so mesmerized by female breasts? I suspected an evolutionary reasons are behind this. But what caused it, really?

From the view of evolutionary biology, it has something to do with male selection of a healthier mate to bear their progeny. Women store fat in their breast, and fat is an indication of a healthy mammal, so men's penchant for breasts is an implication of a mechanical pull for something fertile and healthy. But it's only logical to see the matter in this reasoning: if men want a higher probability to get a healthy offspring, why not procreate with as much as a female there is, because let's face it, mother nature had meticulously build our body to enjoy the procreation process, and sperm is relatively unlimited. So it would only logical for males to procreate with as much females--to make sure the extension of his offspring--without having to be picky of what would his mate be like.

Well let's see this from another perspective, this time from the neuro-biology point of view. Deep inside your ancient memories as an infant, your penchant for breasts has already been shaped as early as your first bonding with your mom's boobies. In order to make a strong bond and give a necessary nutrition for her baby, a hormone called oxytocin was released when baby first consume her mother's milk. Oxytocin is a substance responsible in social situations, such as in pair bonding, sex, and those situations incorporating warm feelings we frequently identifies as love. According to Wikipedia, oxytocin evokes feelings of contentment, reductions in anxiety, and feelings of calmness and security in the company of our mate.

It is said that first-primal experiences has a powerful implication physically and psychologically. So in the matter of maternal bonding between a mother and her baby, this memory must be rooted strongly in our psyche. I believe this has a lot to do with men fascination to women breasts. They are a reminder of the first happy-drug they consume in their first infant days; a memory of the strongest pair-bond ever: a bond between a mother  and her progeny. Women won't have the same magnitude of fascination, because those two bulges stuck on our chest ever since we reach puberty. 

Understanding this would give a different light to a stereo typical sneers about men's fondness to female breasts. Not that women should fling their boobs freely to relief male's perverted thirst, but at least we can understand that the biological reason behind the profanity is really not as profane as we generally thought. Quoting an article over the net: it (men penchant's for women breasts) is an unconscious evolutionary drive prompting men to activate powerful bonding circuits that help create a loving, nurturing bond.