closure

HELLLLOoOoOOo. Hey. Hi.

Something that’s come up recently in conversations with close friends is this idea of closure. Especially closure from someone who hurt you, well SPECIFICALLY closure from someone who hurt you. Someone who wronged you.

And that’s what I want to talk about today.

Today… we’re getting all up in closure’s BUSINESSSSSSS.

I think movies do a really good job of setting us up with the expectation of a perfect closure conversation. And honestly, it’s not their fault.

Movies are supposed to be perfect and dramatic and PERFECT and poignant and PERFECTTTT. But in real life?

Yeah… no. Not so much the vibes out here.

Say you go through a breakup or someone does something that really hurts you.

It’s so easy to imagine sitting down at that dinner where they finally say everything you’ve been waiting to hear:

The “I’m sorry I wronged you. I’ve been doing the work. I see how I hurt you! It wasn’t all for nothing!” come to Jesus moment.

That big, HOT, healing conversation. The moment where everything clicks into place and the hurt has a purpose.

But does that usually happen?

No.

Not in real life.

Because humans are humans and blobs are blobs.

And life is a lot less cute.

We’re trained to believe closure is a conversation.

That it’s an apology from your opponent.

That it’s a two way street.

But in reality?

Sometimes the deepest, realest closure is the kind you give to yourself.

No other person needed.

Just you.

Going inward. Doing the work. And deciding that the work you’ve done is enough.

Um, this happened to me recently. Should we go in? Okay we’re going in, we’re getting real. Someone from my past kept popping up in my brain, consistently, annoyingly, and I was like… why?! Why is this person back all up in my brain business space?!

So, as I do, I brought it to therapy. Shoutout my therapist, you rock.

I told my therapist, “This is so annoying. I’m feeling some type of way and I don’t know why.”

And, sparing you the emotionally gory details, we ended up unearthing a whole pile of trauma this person had caused.

And some of it was REALLY heavy.

And in the past, I think I would’ve thought:

OK, I need to talk to this person.

I need to tell them exactly what they did.

I need to hear an apology. I need to explain my side. I need to have a moment.

But then I sat back and really thought about it.

I was like… OK, Lennnie, play it out.

If you sat down and spilled your guts to this person, and they actually did apologize—

Would that make you feel better?

Would it heal, ACTUALLY HEAL, what happened to you?

And the answer was… no.

Not really.

Because the healing I needed?

It didn’t involve them.

It involved me.

And that realization? That was biiiiig. Big for a little blob.

Sometimes, closure doesn’t even require the person who hurt you.

Sometimes when you feel like you need closure, it’s actually just a call to go inward.

To figure out what part of you needs care, and what part of you still feels unseen or unresolved.

And there is something so powerful about realizing

I can heal from things that I didn’t cause.

That I can take something from outside of me, something painful, and process it inside.

And turn it into peace.

After that therapy session, I genuinely felt like a bad b.

Because now when I think about that person?

I don’t feel weirdness. I don’t feel resentment.

I feel… done.

Resolved.

Not because they fixed it…

But because I did.

So here’s what I want to say:

You are allowed to write yourself the letter you never got.

You are allowed to speak the apology you never received.

You are