Closure Is a Fantasy: The Lies You Tell Yourself to Avoid Facing Rejection

“I just need closure.”

No. You fucking don’t.

You need to accept that they showed you who they are and you don’t like what you saw.

Let’s rip the bandage off.

Closure is not a psychological necessity. It’s a comfort strategy.

Your brain hates ambiguity. It hates unresolved endings. It hates not being chosen. So it convinces you that one more conversation will fix the ache.

It won’t.

Cold hard fact #1:

People rarely misunderstand you as much as you think they do. They heard you. They understood you. They simply didn’t prioritize you. Therapists will gently say, “Maybe they don’t have the capacity.”

Let me translate that. They don’t have the desire. Capacity is not the issue when someone repeatedly ignores clearly communicated pain. That is not confusion. That is preference.

Cold hard fact #2:

When you keep chasing closure, you are trying to regain control over a situation where you were not chosen. That’s the part that burns. It’s not the lack of explanation that keeps you stuck. It’s the hit to your identity.

You believed you were valuable.
You believed you were irreplaceable.
You believed that if someone understood your pain, they would care.

And when they didn’t adjust? Your entire self concept took a punch.

So now you’re looping.

“If I explain it better…”
“If I say it softer…”
“If I say it harder…”
“If they just fully get it…”

They got it.

They just did not experience your pain as motivation to change. That is a devastating realization because it forces you to confront something deeper: You have a pattern of over explaining yourself to people who have already decided what they’re willing to give.

Let’s go deeper…

If you grew up needing to decode moods, anticipate reactions, or earn emotional safety, your brain equates understanding with survival.

If you can understand someone’s behavior, you feel safer.

So when someone hurts you, your nervous system says:
“Get the explanation. Solve the puzzle. Regain stability.”

But here’s the psychological fucking gut punch.

The puzzle is already solved. They ARE consistent. You just don’t like the answer.

Cold hard fact #3:

Closure conversations often re-traumatize you.

Why? Because you are walking into a dynamic hoping for empathy from someone who already demonstrated limited empathy.

You are asking the person who hurt you to validate the hurt. That is like asking fire to apologize for burning you. And when they minimize it again? You spiral harder.

Then you start negotiating yourself down.

“Maybe I’m asking for too much.”
“Maybe I’m too sensitive.”
“Maybe I should’ve handled it better.”

No.

You are asking for the bare fucking minimum and still bargaining your standards down to keep someone who has already shown you their limit.

Closure is often an ego repair mission.

You don’t want answers.
You want your worth restored!

But worth does not come from someone else admitting they mishandled you.

It comes from you believing the first red flag instead of waiting for five more.

The person who is right for you will not require you to present evidence of your humanity.

They will not debate your needs.
They will not need a thesis defense for basic respect.
They will not make you feel insane for reacting to something objectively hurtful.

If you feel crazy, confused, or constantly explaining yourself, you are not in a misunderstanding.

You are in misalignment. And here’s the existential kicker.

If this pattern keeps showing up in your life, different faces, same dynamic, the common denominator is not your bad luck.

It’s your fucking tolerance.

That’s the part therapists won’t bluntly say. You tolerate what feels familiar.

You chase people who feel emotionally unavailable because it mirrors what your nervous system was trained in.

You are not stupid. You are patterned. Closure will not break that pattern. Recognition will.

The moment you stop asking them to validate your pain and start validating it yourself, something shifts.

You stop chasing explanations.
You stop rehearsing speeches.
You stop fantasizing about the perfect apology.

And you start grieving. Not them. The illusion.

Closure is not a conversation.

It’s the moment you stop needing one!

*I am not a licensed mental health professional. I write from lived experience, years of personal therapy, trauma-informed learning, and my love of life coaching. These reflections are intended for education, exploration, and conversation, not as a substitute for professional medical or psychological advice.

If you are navigating trauma, mental health challenges, or family dysfunction, I strongly encourage seeking support from a licensed therapist or qualified provider.