<p><img alt="" src="/media/inline_insight_image/ChatGPT_Image_Jul_30_2026_01_34_46_PM.png"/><strong></strong></p><h1><strong>THE ROUND TABLE<br/></strong><strong>Episode One</strong></h1><h2><strong>Is Closure Something We're Given, or Something We Create?</strong></h2><p><em>"I just need closure."</em></p><p>It's a phrase we've all heard—perhaps one we've even said ourselves.</p><p>Sometimes it's after a relationship ends. Sometimes after a friendship falls apart. Sometimes after losing someone before we ever had the chance to say goodbye.</p><p>We often imagine closure as one final conversation. An apology. An explanation. A message that finally answers every question we've been carrying.</p><p>But life doesn't always give us that.</p><p>Some people disappear.</p><p>Some people choose silence.</p><p>Some people never admit they were wrong.</p><p style="text-align: left;">So, if closure never comes...</p><p style="text-align: center; "><strong><em>Can we still move on?</em></strong></p><p style="text-align: left;">For the first edition of <strong>The Round Table,</strong> we invited three people with different life experiences to explore one question:</p><p style="text-align: center; "><strong><em>Is closure something we're given, or something we create?</em></strong></p><p style="text-align: center; "><br/></p><p style="text-align: center; "><strong>Question One</strong></p><p style="text-align: center;"><strong>Have you ever waited for closure from someone? If so, what did that experience teach you?</strong></p><p style="text-align: right; "><strong>Israel Oyedeji</strong></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>“I'll start by saying, to whom much is given, much is expected.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>It has become the norm and culture that at the end of every wrongdoing, an apology is expected. Though not often regarded, due to different perspectives, it crosses across all forms of disputes.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>To conclude, I'd say closure rests within one's mind, making peace with yourself first, regardless of whether or not the other person recognises it.”</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><br/></p><p style="text-align: right;"><strong>BigDan</strong></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>“Yes, I have. It's a very human experience to seek answers when something important ends.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>At the time, I believed closure had to come from the other person, but I eventually realised that waiting indefinitely only delayed my own healing.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>The experience taught me emotional maturity, resilience, and the importance of choosing growth over resentment.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Sometimes, becoming the bigger person is the greatest form of closure you can give yourself.”</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><br/></p><p style="text-align: right;"><strong>Meerah</strong></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>“100%.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>After my eight-month relationship ended, I waited for the talk. The "this is why it didn't work" conversation.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>I kept my number active for eight months. I even drafted messages I never sent.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Waiting made me stuck.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Every time my phone buzzed, I'd hope it was him.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>But that wasn't my only experience with waiting.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>I also lost a friend suddenly. We'd had a fight two weeks before they passed, and I kept thinking, "If I could just have five more minutes to say what I meant."</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Then there was my best friend. Two years of friendship... then nothing. No fight. Just a slow fade until one day I was blocked. I kept checking if she'd viewed my WhatsApp status. 😂</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Those experiences taught me something different each time.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Silence is an answer too. Painful, but still the answer."</em></p><p style="text-align: center; ">-------------------------------------</p><p>Every story is different.</p><p>Yet each one begins in the same place:</p><p>Waiting.</p><p style="text-align: center; ">-------------------------------------</p><p style="text-align: center;"><br/></p><p style="text-align: center; "><strong>Question Two</strong></p><p style="text-align: center;"><strong>Do you believe closure is something another person gives us, or is it ultimately something we create for ourselves? Why?</strong></p><p style="text-align: right; "><strong>Israel Oyedeji</strong></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>“Experience will certainly sharpen that narrative.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>I had an insight of a supposed relationship where money and time was well spent—everything.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Only to hear at the end,</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>"You're one year younger. I don't think it can work. I'm dating to marry." She said</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>After everything invested, only to find out there was another boy... older.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Omooo... that feeling where you can't breathe… he felt it</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>He did expect closure, but she'd avoid it with her own perspective and dodge the main conversation.”</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><br/></p><p style="text-align: right;"><strong>BigDan</strong></p><p style="text-align: right;">“<em>While another person's apology or explanation can certainly help, I believe true closure is ultimately something we create for ourselves.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Our peace of mind should never be entirely dependent on someone else's willingness to provide answers.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>If we have the power to take ownership of our healing, forgive where necessary, accept what we cannot change, and move forward, then we also have the power to create our own closure.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Waiting for someone else to give you peace is giving them control over your emotional wellbeing.”</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><br/></p><p style="text-align: right;"><strong>Meerah</strong></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>“I think we create it.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>An apology would've been nice, but it wouldn't have erased the months of anxiety after my relationship ended.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>When I lost my friend, no one could give me closure. I had to create it by writing letters, talking to his picture, and reminding myself that the good memories still counted even if the ending was messy.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Accountability matters in relationships.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>But grief is different.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>In grief, you have to become your own witness.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>And it hurts like mad.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>My friendship taught me something too.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>If I give someone else the power to heal me, I'll be waiting forever.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>I created my own closure by accepting that not everyone is meant to go into the next chapter with you.”</em></p><p style="text-align: center; ">-------------------------------------</p><p>Whether shaped by heartbreak, friendship or grief, all three perspectives arrive at a similar conclusion:</p><p>An apology can help.</p><p>But healing cannot depend on one.</p><p style="text-align: center; ">-------------------------------------</p><p style="text-align: center; "><strong>Question Three</strong></p><p style="text-align: center;"><strong>If someone never apologises, explains their actions, or offers a final conversation, do you think it's still possible to move on completely? What does that process look like?</strong></p><p style="text-align: right; "><strong>Israel Oyedeji</strong></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>“Yes and no.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>We can find closure in ourselves as well as in other people, depending on each individual's narrative.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Without a final conversation, apology or explanation, you'd go through the rigorous process of moving on—drawbacks, flashbacks, everything.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Heavy is the head that wears the crown, isn't it?</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>And so it'll be.”</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><br/></p><p style="text-align: right;"><strong>BigDan</strong></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>“Absolutely.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Many people find lasting peace without ever receiving the apology or explanation they hoped for.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>The process begins with accepting that not every chapter will have a satisfying ending.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>Take responsibility for your own actions, release the need for validation, learn the lessons from the experience, and make peace with what cannot be changed.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>It isn't always an easy journey, but healing rarely is.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>In the long run, the greatest reward is your freedom—living without bitterness, regret, or the emotional weight of unresolved expectations.”</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><br/></p><p style="text-align: right;"><strong>Meerah</strong></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>“You can.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>It just doesn't always look the way people imagine.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>It looks boring.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>It looks like therapy every Tuesday.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>It looks like deleting photos and not checking his status.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>It looks like crying on random Tuesdays after losing someone, then getting up to cook and clean because life still has to go on.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>It looks like forgiving someone in your own mind because holding onto the anger only hurts you.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>It looks like unfollowing someone—not out of pettiness, but for peace.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>It looks like making new friends without comparing them to the old ones.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>You don't forget.</em></p><p style="text-align: right;"><em>You simply stop letting the question run your life.”</em></p><p style="text-align: center; ">-------------------------------------</p><p><strong>Leaving the Table</strong></p><p>Perhaps closure isn't the apology.</p><p>Perhaps it isn't the explanation.</p><p>Perhaps it isn't even the final conversation we've convinced ourselves we need.</p><p>Maybe closure begins the moment we stop waiting for someone else to give us permission to heal.</p><p>As Meerah beautifully puts it:</p><p style="text-align: center; ">"<em>Maybe closure isn't a gift someone hands you. Maybe it's the moment you decide to stop waiting at their door and start building your own house</em>."</p><p>Messy?</p><p>Yes.</p><p>Impossible?</p><p>Not at all.</p><p style="text-align: center; ">-------------------------------------</p><p><strong>Your Two Cents</strong></p><p>Now we'd like to hear from you.</p><p>Do you believe closure is something we're given, or something we create?</p><p>Share your thoughts in the comments. After all, there's always room for one more voice at The Round Table.</p><p style="text-align: center; ">-------------------------------------</p><p style="text-align: center; "><strong>Special thanks to this week's participants: ꒰⑅ᵕ༚ᵕ꒱˖♡</strong></p><ul><li><strong>Israel Oyedeji </strong></li><li><strong>BigDan </strong></li><li><strong>Meerah </strong></li></ul><p><br/></p>