We’re taught to believe that closure is the goal—that at some point, after a loss, a transition, or an ending, we’ll reach a moment of resolution. But the reality? Sometimes, you don’t get closure. The answers we seek remain unanswered. And yet, we still move forward.
Which doesn’t mean you’re forgetting or erasing the past. The fact is, you’re learning to live with what’s unresolved; you’re carrying what’s unfinished and finding a way to keep going, even when the answers never come.
The Myth of Closure
We cling to the idea of closure because it promises certainty. It convinces us that if we can just have a final conversation, a defining moment, or a clear explanation, we’ll feel at peace. But life rarely works that way. Jobs end without a satisfying farewell. Relationships fade with unanswered questions. Grief lingers long after the world assumes we’ve moved on.
Sometimes, there is no clean break. No final conversation that ties everything up neatly. And yet, we still have to wake up, show up, and keep living.
The Role of Distractions
In the absence of closure, we often turn to distractions—the “noise” of work, social media, countless projects—anything to keep our minds occupied. In small doses, distractions offer relief. But when they become a crutch, they prevent us from fully engaging with what we’re carrying.
For a long time, I filled every quiet moment with “noise”—anything to avoid sitting with what felt unfinished. Distractions became a way to escape the discomfort of unresolved emotions. But avoidance isn’t healing. Healing happens when we stop numbing ourselves with constant busyness, when we create space to process, to acknowledge what lingers, and to move forward in a way that feels real—not forced.
But at some point, the distractions fade, and we’re left sitting with what’s changed. And it’s not always the big, dramatic losses that weigh on us the most. Sometimes, it’s the subtle shifts—the transitions we didn’t expect to hit as hard as they do.
The Quiet Endings We Carry
Not every loss is dramatic. Some endings arrive so quietly we don’t even recognize them as losses—until much later. The final performance, the last shift at a job, the moment we pack up and leave a place we once called home—these moments slip past without acknowledgment. And yet, they shape us just as deeply.
Oftentimes, the hardest goodbyes aren’t the ones we prepare for. They’re the ones we don’t realize are happening until they’re over. One day, you’re immersed in a project, a routine, a community—and then suddenly, it’s gone. The energy shifts, the people scatter, and you’re left wondering if you truly appreciated it while it lasted.
Today, I’m experiencing the end-of-show blues, for example. I’m not just missing the performing itself. I’m also missing the version of me who existed in those moments—the connections, the routine, the feeling of being part of something bigger. And that’s true of so many transitions in life. The loss isn’t just about what was, but about who we were while it was happening. Losing part of ourselves is another ending that forces us to move forward without “closure.” We’re suddenly left with the transition to, “who am I now?”
Letting Go of the Need for a Neat Ending
We’re conditioned to seek completion. To believe that if we don’t get closure, we’re stuck. But what if closure isn’t about finding answers? What if it’s about making peace with the lack of them?
It’s okay to still have questions. To still wonder. To still feel the sting of something unfinished. We can’t force an ending where one doesn’t exist; we just have to accept that some chapters don’t get a final page.
Finding Meaning Without Closure
So if we don’t get the resolution we expect, what do we do instead?
Instead of waiting for an answer that may never come, we create our own meaning. We honor what was without forcing it into a perfect narrative. We shift our focus from seeking an ending to embracing what’s next.
A creative outlet can help with this. Writing, art, music—even scribbling down random thoughts—can give form to emotions that don’t fit into words. Allowing ourselves the space to express our emotions is liberating. After my first loss, I compiled mixed tapes of songs that expressed what I couldn’t, and I shared those with people I loved so they could get a feel for what I was going through.
It didn’t solve anything. It didn’t give me closure. But it gave me expression—and that was enough.
Sometimes, that’s what we have to do: keep stepping forward. Not because we have all the answers, but because life moves whether we’re ready or not.
Moving Forward Without Closure
You don’t need closure to move forward. You don’t need every answer to begin again. You just need to decide that carrying the unfinished is enough—and that you are enough, even without a perfect resolution.
What’s something in your life that you’ve had to move forward from without closure? How did you navigate it? Or are you still finding your way through?
