‘Breadcrumbing’ is a new type of ghosting you don’t even realize is happening
I’ve been breadcrumbing since AIM
For starters, who is the head of the committee that decides what new form of torture guys will be using on us? It’s like a flavor of the month club that you did not subscribe to. And in this week’s edition of internet findings that hurt your head and remind you you’re worthless, we have the latest “new ghosting” trend which goes by the clever name of breadcrumbing.
Here’s the definition according to Urban Dictionary:
So apparently most of us are a crusty, little worm on the food chain of eligible bachelor and bachelorettes because I’ve been getting breadcrumbed the shit out of us for the past 23 years and really just thought that was called male attention/dating. But fuck me, right? Because this isn’t flirting or the all encompassing relationship label of “talking.”
Instead, it’s some dark, tortuous trap to lead men and women along in a wild goose chase for love, sex or some sense of approval.
Now here’s the thing — I don’t inherently have a problem with breadcrumbing. We’re all guilty of scattering a little trail or two as much as we are of nibbling on their carby, insecurity-inducing goodness ourselves.
But now that we’ve given a name to it and made it the latest and greatest way of playing mind-games in this age of “dating is obsolete, pizza is bae, give me a man who can do both,” we officially have to feel bad about it. This is where breadcrumbing really ruins our lives.
It’s basically like being the only person dressed up at a costume party. You don’t care if I’m going against the grain — you know you look cool as fuck in your Hagrid costume. But when everyone starts acknowledging that you clearly misread “cocktail attire” on the invitation (jokes on them, you didn’t even get an invitation) — now we have an issue.
Ghosting is bad enough. So much so that I get self-conscious when my mom takes too long to answer my texts. It’s fueled this constant fear of rejection because you literally can’t even get rejected. REJECT ME! TELL ME MY OBSESSION WITH STEVE CARELL WAS A DEAL BREAKER. But for the love of God please don’t just toss me aside and never contact me again. That’ll mess with your head and push any sane person to indulge in their forbidden double-texting addiction.
But no, now we have breadcrumbing. Those late night texts ranging from “You up?” to “Thinking of you.” The allusive Insta likes, perhaps paired with a clever comment. The compliments on your latest look, just generic enough to make you question its truthfulness.
The interactions aren’t quite frequent or personal enough to make us feel stable and comfortable, but always come at just the right time to keep us hooked.
Well, newsflash ladies and gents: whoever’s doing this to you is thinking the exact same thing as you do to your own prey. It’s all about liking being liked and hey, if that gives you self-validation, don’t let me stop you. Breadcrumbing is harmless enough and if it gets you laid occasionally, no harm, no foul.
But if you’ve caught the infamous “feels” for a tried and true breadcrumber, it’s time to get out while you still can and save yourself the emotional calories.