There’s nothing quite like the ache of an open ending. When a relationship dies quietly. When someone walks away without a word. When you’re left holding all the feelings, all the questions—and none of the closure.
If you’ve ever been ghosted, left wondering what you did wrong, or haunted by the silence that followed a once-deep connection… I see you. I was you.
For years, I clung to the “why.” Why didn’t they fight for me? Why could they say they loved me, and then vanish? Why didn’t I matter enough to deserve an explanation?
But here’s what I learned the hard way: that need for closure was never really about them. It was my ego’s need to be right, to be the victim and my last grasp at control—trying to make sense of someone else’s actions, when in truth, their actions were already the answer.
"Why didn’t I matter enough to deserve an explanation?"
I used to spend so much energy trying to get people to see the pain they caused. Hoping that if they understood how deeply they hurt me, they’d fix it. That they’d make it right. That I could finally move on.
But all that did was keep me bound to the wound.
Let me tell you the moment everything shifted.
I sat in silence one night, heart cracked wide open, and I asked myself—not why they did what they did—but why I kept needing them to explain it. Why I kept placing my healing in the hands of someone who already showed me they didn’t value my heart. Why was I so hung up on mthis need to be seen as the “right one”?
That’s when I realized: The closure I was chasing couldn’t come from them. It had to come from me.
It had to come from radical self-forgiveness. From acceptance. From releasing the fantasy that they’d somehow say the perfect words that would make it all make sense.
And if I’m being honest? In the rare moments when someone did circle back to offer “closure,” it never landed the way I thought it would. Sometimes it was empty. Sometimes it hurt worse. And sometimes I found myself thinking, That’s what I waited for?
Closure isn’t something someone gives you. It’s something you decide. It’s a sacred, self-led act of letting go.
If you’re still in that space—waiting, aching, hoping—this is your gentle nudge, Queen:
You don’t need their apology to heal. You don’t need their version of the story to make peace with your own. You don’t need their words to reclaim your worth.
Closure is the moment you stop asking why they did it and start asking why you kept allowing it.
Closure is when you stop begging for clarity and start choosing your peace.
Closure is becoming the woman who no longer waits to be chosen, but chooses herself.
Here are a few ways you can begin becoming your own closure:
Let their behavior be the answer. The inconsistency, disrespect, or silence? That was the closure. Let it stand.
Hold a symbolic goodbye. Write a letter. Burn it. Bury the memories. Host a funeral for what was. Grieve it, and then release it.
Name your emotions without judgment. All of them—rage, grief, confusion, shame. You are allowed to feel it all.
Rewrite the story. Not as your downfall—but as your becoming. A sacred chapter in your healing. A lesson, not a life sentence.
Forgive. Again and again. Them, yes. But especially yourself. You did the best you could with what you knew then.
Practice empathy—but don’t bypass the truth. You can understand their wounds and still honor the harm they caused. This is for you, not to excuse them.
Define closure for yourself. What does it actually mean to you? You’ll realize—it was never something they could truly give.
Closure isn’t something someone gives you. It’s something you decide."
Even if they come back later with an explanation… you’ll be surprised at how little it matters once you’ve already made peace on your own.
And if reconciliation is ever on the table, self-led closure ensures that you’re not walking back into something hoping to fix the past—but with clarity, strength, and a clean slate.