Until recently, I have never experienced closure at the end of a relationship. I’d heard the term thrown around a lot, but never really understood what it felt like. I’m not just talking about romantic relationships, I’m talking about all relationships. I looked at the past relationships in my life like frayed strands in a ripped cloth — just floating around. It led me down a path of examining the meaning of closure; whether it’s something we give ourselves, give to others, or share together in a meaningful way.
I read a TikTok one-liner that stopped me in my tracks: “Don’t think of it as over, think of it as complete”, and this reframed my perspective on these loose threads. Instead of torn fragments, I see them now as a myriad of ribbons, cut to size. Only we don’t know at the outset what the size of the ribbon will be. Viewing these relationships as ones that had met their natural conclusion, one way or another, was immediately a soothing thought.
For the vast majority of ended relationships, whether they be with family, friends, lovers, or colleagues, I’ve been able to use self-acceptance as a way to move on. There may be experiences I had with those people that were hurtful, or whom I hurt. Truth be told, it’s probably both. You live, you learn, you move on. However, there have always been ones that stung a little when I thought back on those memories.
Another way to close the relationship might be through acceptance of the other and understanding the past can’t be changed. A life-long friend recently spoke to me about the passing of her Dad and how towards the end of his life she made the decision to care for him, despite the trauma she had received at his hands, and she knew he would never accept a conversation that opened up the past. She said, “[in] the last few years of his life he treated me with love and respect and I had to decide that it was good enough. Our relationship was in a really good place when he died.” I can only imagine the emotional complexities of choosing to focus on the present, forgiving or setting aside past grievances for the sake of shared moments with an imminent conclusion. I visualise this relationship as a well-worn jumper, with frayed cuffs and stains, that smells of comfort and the person who is no longer here.
For the very first time, I recently had the opportunity to experience closure through communicating with someone from a past relationship. The mutual consideration, lack of defensiveness, and validation of my feelings in this conversation were a true gift, and it gave me a profound sense of freedom and release from this relationship which was one of the ones that stung. It was very much like putting down a heavy weight that I didn’t know I’d been carrying.
In reality, not all relationships will provide us with closure in a way we might hope. Sometimes we have to light that match and burn the bridge for our own physical or emotional safety. Some relationships haunt us and the best way to find closure is in the safe space of therapy.
Now that I have reframed my perspective on relationships not being over, but being complete, I hope I’ll be able to let go of the ones that still sting. Using self-acceptance, acceptance of others, and having tough conversations where they are available and emotionally safe to engage in are the tools I can use to set myself free. If I’m lucky, when I’m old I can weave a brightly coloured scarf with my ribbons of many lengths to wear and remind me of the experiences and memories I’ve shared with others.
I’d like to invite you to share your stories of closure in the comments. Everyone’s journey through relationships is unique, no one is alone in navigating the complexities of relationships.
