The Thing That Hurt the Most: Being Ignored

The next thing I want to talk about is the part that hurt the most. And I think this is something most people would agree on—it’s one of the clearest signs that someone doesn’t truly care.

When I was a teenager, there was a period of time where I completely shut down. I barely spoke. Not because I had nothing to say, but because when I did speak, people talked over me, looked away, or ignored me entirely. After a while, I learned a painful lesson: my voice didn’t matter. So why waste my breath?

Because of that, I grew up being a listener. When someone spoke to me, I looked them in the eye. I paid attention. I cared. I’ve always been that way.

So when Gina came into my life, I really believed I had finally found someone I could open up to—someone who would listen the way I listened. Someone I could talk things through with, the way I always did for her. And I did show up for her. Even when her worries were based on assumptions or twisted versions of things I said, I stayed. I talked it through. I wanted us to move forward in a healthy way.

I even told her how deeply being ignored affected me. I told her there were too many people in my life who had done that to me—especially my mom. My mom never wanted to hear my side or believe the truth. Anything I shared was either dismissed, turned against me, or met with anger and abuse. For most of my life, I didn’t feel like I had a voice at all.

When I told Gina this, she said, “You don’t deserve that.” She also shared—without much detail—that she knew what it felt like to be ignored and abandoned too. She told me how upsetting it was when people ignored her. If my MIL ignored her, she’d be very upset. If her siblings didn’t respond, she’d assume they were ignoring her and get angry.

And then… she started ignoring me.

At first, it was subtle. I told myself she probably just forgot to respond. Then I noticed she’d reply to most of my email—but completely ignore the parts that mattered most to me. By 2024, it became impossible to ignore the pattern.

When she ignored me, I was obviously hurt—but I didn’t tell her that. Instead, I turned inward. I started spiraling. Why would she ignore this? Did I do something wrong? And then I did something I never should have done: I apologized.

I over-explained. I over-defended. I apologized for being “too much.” For being “annoying.” For wanting to talk things through.

That was the wrong response—but it made sense given my past. I learned as a child that if I took the blame, smoothed things over, or agreed even when I didn’t want to, the stress might stop. The ignoring might end. And with Gina, it worked—temporarily. Once I apologized, she would acknowledge me again.

But that came at a cost.

Every time she ignored something important to me, it reinforced the feeling that I wasn’t important. Because if I mattered, we would have talked through it—not avoided it. The strange part is that she often said she “enjoyed” talking things through. But looking back, that was only true when the conversation was on her terms.

She was happy to talk when she was twisting my words, bringing up the past, criticizing my character, or positioning herself as morally superior. But the one time—the only time—I brought up a concern of my own because I was exhausted from being confused… she shut my voice down completely.

The first time she ignored me in 2024, I genuinely thought she was being mean. I remember thinking, She doesn’t want to hear the truth—that she misunderstood me—so she’s ignoring me to make me feel stupid. And then she did it again months later. And this time, she walked away for good.

She ignored my final emails. She decided the relationship was over because I had one concern. I had stayed quiet about everything else. I let things go. I absorbed the hurt. Meanwhile, she was allowed to say whatever she wanted—no matter how painful—and I still talked it through with her. I never ignored her.

That’s when I finally saw how off the dynamic was.

I was giving far more than I should have. I even briefly thought about doing what she did—ignoring parts of what she said. I tried once in October 2024 when she texted me after nearly four months of silence. But I felt bad. I responded the next day.

I was too caring. Too accommodating. And that was absolutely exploited.

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What I’ve Learned About Being Ignored

Ignoring someone—especially in a close friendship—is one of the most hurtful things you can do.

When someone repeatedly shuts down communication, avoids important conversations, and holds you to a different standard than they hold themselves, that’s not normal conflict. That’s an unhealthy dynamic.

Some possible reasons behind this kind of behavior:

• Conflict avoidance. Some people simply refuse to engage in uncomfortable conversations, especially when they might need to take responsibility.
• Control and emotional manipulation. Ignoring you until you apologize teaches you to silence your own needs to keep the relationship.
• Lack of empathy. Getting angry when they feel ignored, while repeatedly ignoring you, shows a clear double standard.
• Deflection. Labeling you as “unsafe” when you bring up a concern can be a way to shut down accountability and redirect blame.
• Insecurity or resentment. Sometimes people project their inner discomfort onto the person closest to them—and cutting you off feels easier than self-reflection.

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What This Pattern Actually Means

• The relationship isn’t emotionally safe.
• Your feelings are being invalidated.
• Open communication isn’t welcome unless it benefits them.
• Compromise isn’t possible.

That’s not friendship.

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Moving Forward

This situation went on for over a year, and I felt consistently hurt, confused, and unheard. At some point, it became my responsibility to protect myself.

Here’s what helped me move forward:

• I validated my own need for communication instead of apologizing for it.
• I accepted silence as an answer—it is a choice.
• I prioritized my emotional safety over preserving the relationship.
• I talked it through with people I trust. Even though I don’t have many friends, the people I did talk to—including my daughter—helped me see clearly that this dynamic wasn’t healthy.

Walking away wasn’t easy. But disengaging completely was the right thing to do for my mental, emotional, and even physical well-being.

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A Closing Thought

Being ignored doesn’t mean you’re asking for too much.
It usually means you’re asking the wrong person.

Your voice matters.
And the people who truly care won’t punish you for using