Closure and the futur e y ou
The ending of a significant chapter of one’s life – a relationship, a job, a way of thinking – may be painful for many of us. And you may have heard the same advice from everyone from your therapist to your friend: “You need closure.” But how do you go about achieving this? These women share their stories on letting go of what once was and moving forward.
“It’s our light, not our darkness that most frightens us”
Meaganvan dervent
Many times, when people speak or share their stories about loss, pain or separation, they usually refer to the loss of a person or something they hold dear to them. My greatest loss was almost losing myself.
For a long time, I faced challenges about who I am, who I am becoming and who I used to be. Thinking about this as a woman sometimes gets scary and overwhelming. We put so much pressure on ourselves, wanting to live that fairy-tale life from books and films, and not allowing ourselves to be authentic and follow our own journey. But each person’s destiny is different and even though our stories may seem the same, the process one needs to go through differs.
Growing up with a single mother was strenuous and challenging, yet my mother gave her best and her best was all we needed. Even through her struggles, trials and pain, she persevered and raised us to the best of her ability.
Due to an absent father, I always questioned my self-worth as an individual, a teen, friend, sister, daughter and woman. I felt unworthy and not good enough. There was a battle between me and myself. I couldn’t accept love when it was given by others because I didn’t know how to exert love to myself. Each great opportunity life offered me I declined, as I didn’t know my worth. Until one day, I read a quote by author Marianne Williamson: “It’s our light, not our darkness that most frightens us.”
This quote resurrected something inside of me, and made me sit down and reintroduce myself to myself. I wept, because all along it was not my past mistakes or people leaving me that consumed me. It was me that expected more of me. I realised that failures, triumphs and growing up with a single mother did not define me, I define myself.
I’m fearfully and wonderfully made. I found closure in knowing change is not an outside job. Change is an inside job and finding closure meant me forgiving myself.
deidre Macdecorney
I was married for 22 years, and at 44 the time came to walk away from a verbally-abusive marriage. People don’t realise that you don’t just wake up one morning and decide, “That’s it, I’m leaving.” This is a buildup of years of giving the ‘benefit of the doubt’ to one person because you think, ‘ Maybe one day he will change.’ But to your emotional detriment, he never changes or acknowledges his wrongdoing.
It was hard for me to deal with my emotional state and still consider the feelings of my two daughters (who were 20 and 25 at the time). My past had a great impact on how I moved forward. How do I start from scratch? Where do I begin? Many women don’t think they can make it, but believe me when I say you have the strength to make it to the end. Not being yelled at daily gave me great comfort and peace in knowing that I made the right decision.
Today, when I look back and reflect on the past, all I can say is God was and is my refuge. I walked away with nothing but my clothes and a few personal items not knowing where I would lay my head. But my family and friends kept me going through laughter, and my tears were wiped away by praying. I found closure by telling myself that no woman should ever be treated with disrespect no matter what the circumstances or how he justified his behaviour. I also had to learn to forgive my ex-husband and myself – only then was I able to move on. To date, my ex has not forgiven me for leaving, but I can confidently say it doesn’t matter, because I have peace in my heart that what I did was for me and no one else.
Melissatitus
At 35 and three kids later, I can honestly say I’ve conquered many mountains, including currently enduring the most painful trial I’ve ever endured: re-occurrence of triple-negative breast cancer.
As a teenager, I walked with gaping emotional wounds caused by the loss of my mother after my parents’ divorce and the relocation of my siblings. The impact of being a young teenager without a mom is devastating, and the conjoint absence of my dad for a brief period left me with a huge identity crisis and hunger for acceptance. I mastered the art of cutting myself off emotionally to avoid further disappointment, which resulted in poor life-changing decisions.
My mother came back into my life after 20 years of living in Joburg, just before my first diagnosis with triple-negative breast cancer (stage one) in 2016. During the first year of chemo and operations, she lived with us in Cape Town, and closure came in many forms during this time. After two years, she eventually moved in with my sister. I believe in talking about pressing issues when they surface, and would constantly ask her questions regarding the separation and her leaving and having a new family. It wasn’t easy. When she spoke about her kids in Joburg and how they grew up, I still felt a sting because the pain was still there from not having her around while growing up.
In 2016, I underwent eight rounds of chemo, which caused mild seizures and I was wheelchair bound for a few months. I had one major operation where they removed both my breasts and did reconstruction, and the doctors deemed me cancer free. A huge part of my journey that year was sharing the process with others to inspire them to have hope regardless of the trials they were in.
From 2017 to 2018, I had three more post-operations where complications arose, but my strength was renewed. At the end of 2018 I discovered a tumour, and in 2019 I was diagnosed with re-occurrence of breast cancer on the chest wall (stage three) which spread to my lymph nodes and neck. I found solace in telling myself that this is a new season and that the journey would be different. I’m now halfway through treatment of chemotherapy, following which will be more operations and radiation. My focus, however, is not on the cancer. It’s on finding my purpose beyond it. I define closure as unpacking all spiritual and emotional baggage until the pain dissipates and the wounds no longer act as triggers. By doing so, I have healed past traumas so I can be stronger in the present.
niwe gaMa
I used to be fuelled by the idea of what my life was ‘supposed’ to be. It seemed at every milestone, imposed by society, my reality didn’t match my ‘supposed to be’. I grew more determined to achieve my ideal existence. Ironically, my new zest only fostered more anxiety and chipped at my self-worth, and I found myself depressed and in a perpetual state of discontent. I had to let that go. I had a perspective shift and unlearned old ways of thinking to create space for new thought patterns. I learnt to be present, to be more forgiving and to praise myself more often. I put to death the old me – the expectations, undue pressure and external measures of worth.
To me, closure is acceptance, and acceptance is self-made. I bloom where I am planted now and I am so much happier for it.
ruviMbo chizarura
I had a ‘ghosting’ experience. We had been together for over a year and in the beginning it looked promising. I honestly thought this was the one! As with any relationship, as it progressed, we began to see the imperfect side of each other. What I saw and realised was that I was with the wrong person – he didn’t feel like ‘home’.
He had subtle narcissistic tendencies that I only got to fully experience firsthand as our relationship progressed. Then, one day we had a big fight over nothing – keep in mind that we never fought the entire time we were together, as he believed that people in relationships never fought. Afterwards, he just went quiet. I tried reaching out and being the bigger person, but to no avail. After about a month of hoping some sense would come over him and we’d talk, I officially declared myself single.
Do I sit up late at night wondering where I went wrong? No! Did I feel worthless and like nothing because of the way he left? For a while I did. I never got closure and honestly, not that I’m bitter or mad, because I’m not, I don’t care about hearing what he may have to say. I found closure by myself.
gizellevan rooyen
I met him in 2009. Everything was on a high, he connected immediately with my family – we all believed that I had found my person. But knowing that he came from an abusive background always haunted me, as I too came from a background of physical and verbal abuse.
When I fell pregnant, I always felt alone, as he wasn’t really emotionally present. He worked at a retail store and worked long retails hours, so the time we spent together was short, and every time we were together I felt his mind was dwelling on other places. I developed trust and insecurity issues, low self-esteem and self-doubt that affected me emotionally and physically.
I was seven months pregnant when I finally got the courage to leave him after his cheating and abuse became too much. At eight months, he pushed me after I caught him cheating via a phone call. The day I went into labour he was with another woman, and even though we weren’t together, he lied about it. After our son was born, we tried to give our relationship a second chance. However, after two months, I left. He moved on; I moved on. After four years we rekindled our relationship, and he started lying and cheating. When he proposed, I said yes. But, during this time, he impregnated another woman, and I finally realised that he would never change. It took me almost 10 years to accept that.
Today, I’m married and so is he, and we co-parent our son. It took time to get over him, combined with many prayers, self-talks and tears, but now that I’m finally at peace I’ve learnt that when your heart feels you’ve had enough, don’t follow your head for society’s pleasure.