CLOSURE

“If you’re looking for closure, let me tell you this:

The lack of respect was the closure.

The lack of an apology was the closure.

The lack of care, accountability, and honesty…

That was the closure.”

— Mel Robbins

We like to talk about closure as if it’s a conversation over coffee, calm and tidy. Like it’s a mutual understanding wrapped in all the right words. Or something you can just pick from a menu, plated and orderly.

But sometimes, it isn’t. And that’s hard, because we crave a closed door, a touchstone that tells us this story is over.

We want a period, the end to a sentence, a clean conclusion. But life so often hands us a comma instead — a pause, a half-breath, a cliffhanger we didn’t ask for. And sometimes, what comes after that comma isn’t closure at all — just an echo chamber.

Our own questions bouncing back at us, unanswered.

The betrayal is the closure, the silence is the answer and the disrespect, the distance, the disregard, that is the ending, the final chapter.

It’s nice to talk about appropriate closure. To believe there’s a bow to tie, a moment where everything makes sense.

But real life? It’s messier than that.

Sometimes there’s no apology, no explanation, no redemptive arc, just the truth standing there, naked and unfixable. No clocks to turn back, no second chances, just the rubble of what could have been.

And sometimes that has to be enough.

Because closure isn’t always given. Sometimes it’s chosen.

It’s the quiet, sacred moment you stop waiting for accountability and start building peace on your own terms. So lift your head dear one, it’s time to move on, because you are enough.

With gratitude.