Why become a ghost (1)
Leaving everything behind to fade away is tough, but for the right person, it’s worth it.
In my earlier posts, I’ve shared some of the challenges I’m facing on this journey to vanish. I knew from the start it wouldn’t be easy—practical obstacles were guaranteed, and I’m grappling with them now. That’s exactly why I’m writing this blog: to document what I’m learning along the way.
Don’t get me wrong—I’m not saying it’s all bad. Yes, my quality of life has taken a hit. Yes, my stress and exhaustion levels are way higher than when I was coasting in my comfort zone. Yes, I’ve got new problems I didn’t have before. Yes, the future is uncertain, and I don’t even know how close I’ll get to my goal—or if I’ll crash and burn completely (which, honestly, feels like the most likely outcome right now). All that is true.
But there’s something about this journey that’s rewarding in itself, something that, to me, makes up for all the rest. That’s what I want to talk about here.
Our social networks—the people we interact with in our personal or professional lives—give us what we need to get by, both materially and emotionally. But that comes at a steep cost, one we’re so used to paying we barely notice it. These people “know” us. They have an image of who we are, complete with expectations about how we’ll act or react to the world around us. Those expectations form part of the identity they assign to us.
We do the same to others. Think about it: you can probably guess what someone you know would say or how they’d react in a given situation. The better you know them, the more confident you are in predicting their behavior. But here’s the key: if they suddenly acted in a way that “wasn’t like them,” you’d be surprised. You’d think either they’ve changed, or you didn’t know them as well as you thought. What we call “knowing” someone is really just the definition we’ve built of their identity.
So, we’re all surrounded by people who pin an identity on us, which means we’re surrounded by expectations that weigh on our shoulders. Those expectations are barriers—“soft limits” that outline the social space we’ve been assigned.
Can you just break those limits if one day you decide they don’t suit you? Sure, but it’s an uphill battle. You’d have to push against the pressure to redefine your social space. You’d face surprised reactions, maybe even disapproval. You’d have to repeat your reasoning over and over to everyone you deal with. Relationships built on the old definition of you would fray or fall apart. And even if you succeed in carving out a new space, it’ll still come with its own soft limits. You haven’t escaped the prison—you’ve just moved to a cell that feels more comfortable.
(To be continued in the next post)