the closure trap
Are you someone who seeks closure? Do you often circle the pond to let others know how you feel? Not because you’re dramatic. Not because you’re too much. But because being misunderstood feels unbearable. We believe that if we explain ourselves well enough, we can control the outcome. If we’re kind enough, calm enough, soft enough, we can prevent rejection. We can keep the connection. We can make it work. We can make them understand.
When someone behaves in an unkind way, when someone tells us it’s over, when they change the rules without warning or offer an explanation that feels more like a weak excuse than the truth, something in us wants to fix it. We want to tie up the loose ends. We want to be understood. We want to make sure they know how much it hurts.
And listen, I’m not saying those feelings aren’t valid. They are. That sting is real. The loss is real. The confusion is real. But I think we should tell the truth about what we’re reaching for when we go back.
Because most of the time, we aren’t going back for closure. We’re going back for relief. We’re going back for a version of the conversation where they soften, apologize, and suddenly become the person we needed them to be. We’re going back for a moment where they say the words that make the ending feel clean, digestible, and fair.
But endings are not always clean. And here’s the part nobody wants to hear when they’re hurting: going back to someone who has already shown you who they are is often just reopening the wound and calling it a way to gain “closure.” It’s pressing on the bruise to see if it still hurts. It does. It always does. And then we act surprised when we walk away feeling smaller than we did before we reached out.
When we truly believe we are worthy, we stop trying to convince others of our worth; we need to say a lot less, and we hear a lot more.
We stop writing paragraphs to people who keep responding with silence. We stop reopening conversations that only exist to soothe our anxiety for ten minutes, just to leave us spiraling again by nightfall. We stop trying to “have the last word” when what we actually want is to be chosen.
Because closure isn’t something someone gives you when they finally understand you.
Closure is something you give yourself when YOU finally understand YOU.
IT’S THE MOMENT YOU REALIZE:
You don’t need to send the paragraph.
You don’t need to ask the question one more time.
You don’t need their agreement for your experience to be real.
You don’t need their permission to let go.
If this feels like the pattern you keep getting pulled back into, you don’t have to untangle it alone. When you’re ready, you’re welcome to reach out through my contact page to see if we're a good fit.
