Our lives are made up of endings: the end of childhood, of a marriage, a job, a dream. Some are obviously heavier and have more impact—a divorce, the loss of a parent, retirement. Others seem lighter—the friend who has seemed to fade away; the casual or serious relationship that mutually dissolved; the job layoff that was long expected. But regardless of the circumstances, the details, the cause, or the process, endings still create an emotional effect. All endings have a few things in common.
Grief and attachment
I’ve worked with many unfortunate victims of abusive relationships. While they are always relieved to have escaped their ordeal, a deeper look often reveals an underlying sense of loss. Loss isn’t only about the quality or nature of the relationship; it’s about attachment. We get attached to relationships that are familiar and bring a sense of safety or caring, even intermittently—whether it’s a longstanding partner, a casual dating relationship, or even objects like clothes or books. When they’re gone, we grieve, even if it’s for minutes, hours, days, or months.
Loss stirs older losses
Losses are like roots on a tree. A breakup makes you think about other breakups. Job loss stirs feelings about other jobs. Losing your pet brings up memories of your long-gone parents. Like attachment, loss is a severed nerve that keeps pulsing long after. You find yourself drifting back into your past.
You create a story
No event in your life is ever just neutral—a simple noted event—but always comes with a story, a belief, and a larger context you create. This is where you need to be careful: you can get stuck in the rut of old stories that no longer fit and attack your self-esteem. The breakup is no longer just a relationship that was incompatible but another sign that you have some flaw that will prevent you from finding a close relationship. The job loss isn’t just about a struggling company; it’s about how life feels against you despite your efforts. There’s always some moral to an ending, but it is one that you create.
So, how do you better move through endings?
1. Understand the process
Your emotional and physical systems are taking a hit. It takes three days or three weeks, depending on the importance and length, to move through the shell-shock stage, where you obsess—what you could have done differently, why, and what about the future? Your mind is working overtime to connect the dots and make sense of what happened. Then you settle a bit—more weeks or months later—but you’re still fragile: unexpected old memories get stirred; you’re easily emotionally triggered by someone’s comment or an old song on the radio.
But eventually you feel yourself on more solid ground. The closing of a chapter. The loss has moved to the mental back burner.
2. Be gentle with yourself
I’ve met people, and you’ve probably known such folks as well, who respond to any disruption in their lives by simply plowing through it. It works in the short term, but if you never slow down to settle or accept the loss, it can come back to you later. The key is acknowledging the disruption in your life, however minor it may feel in the moment. Give it some mental and emotional space, however brief, rather than sweeping it under the rug.
3. Be careful of your story
Events in our lives are neutral. The arguments you had with your supervisor or partner may be, for you, more of the same that will eventually blow over, but for someone else the beginning of a firing or breakup. Events always come with baggage: a story, a context we make up, usually tied to past stories. We create a narrative about our lives around certain themes—that life always screws us over, that we’re never appreciated, that we’re a victim, or that moving forward and not dwelling on the past always works out.
When endings happen, be careful to ask whether you are continuing to feed an old story that not only doesn’t fit you but also fuels a negative sense of the world and of yourself, or whether this is an opportunity to change it—that you are not the victim, that the world is out to get you.
Easier said than done, of course. But with loss comes a small window of transition where you can step back and look at what’s happened through a different, often wider, lens.
4. Imagine the next chapter
Don’t do the forced-denial march forward, where you pretend that what’s happened didn’t happen. But be careful of getting stuck—licking your wounds too long, replaying the story that only casts you in the same role. Move forward both mentally and behaviorally. Imagine a new chapter, a new relationship, a new future you. Use this image as a guide, and strive to become that person in appearance, attitude, expectations, and even look.
Grieve, accept, and find closure about the past, but move forward.
