In theory, closure suggests a neat and conclusive ending to an emotional relationship. We believe it comes through a final conversation, an apology, or an explanation that helps both people understand why things ended. In some cases, particularly in amicable breakups, closure can feel real. A healthy discussion, mutual respect, and emotional maturity can help us move forward without lingering resentment or unanswered questions.
But to be completely honest, closure is rarely possible, or at least what we think will give us closure never will. The constant fight for closure can keep you hanging onto a person, constantly breaking the infamous ‘no contact’ stage in order to cling to the hope of a perfect resolution that you’ll never actually get from that person. Maybe you got ghosted. Maybe they left you with a vague “It’s not you, it’s me” and zero elaboration. Maybe you were the one who ended things and are still haunted by what-ifs. Whatever the situation, closure is often this elusive thing we chase, believing that if we just get the right conversation, the perfect explanation, the final text, we’ll magically stop caring.
Moreover, the idea of closure assumes that emotions operate like a closed book and that once we “understand” a situation, our feelings will naturally dissipate. In truth, healing is a personal process that doesn’t always require external validation. Those seeking closure may actually be looking for permission to move on when in reality, that power already lies within them.
In the end, closure may not be a single moment of resolution but a gradual process of self-reflection, growth, and acceptance. While it may not always come in the way we expect, the ability to heal and move forward is always possible. Instead of searching for closure from others, perhaps the real question is: how can we give it to ourselves?