I spent years chasing “closure.” You know the feeling—that itch in your brain that won’t go away until you get that one final conversation, that apology, or that one piece of the puzzle that finally makes the whole mess make sense.
I thought if I could just get the other person to admit they were wrong, or explain why they did what they did, I’d suddenly wake up and the pain would be gone. Like a light switch.
Turns out, that’s a lie. A comforting one, but a lie nonetheless.
I stumbled across this video recently and it hit me right in the gut:
The idea is that we don’t actually need the other person’s words to validate our experience. We’ve been sold this idea that closure is a gift someone else gives us. But real closure is actually the strength you build when you decide to walk away without the answers.
“What people really want is finality, is clarity. What they really want is certainty about what’s going on.”
That “need for certainty” is just a survival instinct. Our brains hate ambiguity. It feels dangerous. So we trade the messy truth for a tidy lie just so we can stop feeling anxious.
But here’s the thing: chasing that finality keeps you focused on them. It keeps you tied to the person who hurt you, waiting for their permission to heal.
I’ve realized that the real work isn’t about closing a door; it’s about integrating the experience. It’s about learning to carry the weight of the “unanswered” and realizing you’re still capable of moving forward. It’s kind of like the core of the Stop Fixing Yourself approach—stopping the endless attempt to “repair” a past that can’t be changed and instead owning the present.
“Healing is not about sealing off the past. It’s about integrating it, learning to carry it differently.”
It’s a shift from seeking resolution to seeking meaning. You don’t need the apology to know you deserved better. You don’t need the explanation to know that what happened was wrong.
“Closure trumps ambiguity in every competition, even if the closure itself is a lie.”
So if you’re still waiting for that email, that call, or that moment of clarity… maybe stop waiting. The closure you’re looking for isn’t in their mouth; it’s in your own decision to stop needing it.