What if closure isn't the point?

This is the first time I’ve truly left a job.

I thought leaving would feel more final.

I knew my last day. I handed things off. I said goodbye. But I keep turning things over in my head—especially the stuff I didn’t finish. Like onboarding someone new while already halfway out the door. It didn’t go the way I wanted. I was distracted. I’ve been exhausted. And it’s hard not to feel like I dropped the ball.

I think I wanted closure to feel like this neat little handoff. A clean ending. I was craving the finality of it. But the truth is, the work is never really done, is it? And I don’t know if I’ll ever feel “done” with this chapter.

I struggled with this for a while, telling myself that if I didn’t feel done, I must not want to leave, right? But I do know that two things can be true.

What most probably don’t realize is this is the first time I’ve truly left a job. Not one I founded. Not one I shut down. Just… left. And I’m still figuring out how to sit with that.

There’s a lot I’m still carrying with me. Some relationships that will stick. Some I’m still quietly mourning. There’s fear, too—like whether I’ll find that same depth of connection in the next place. I know I probably will. People remind me I make friends everywhere I go. I believe them. Mostly. :)

And then there’s the team. I’ve been catching myself worrying about how they’ll hold up, what they might be walking into now that I’m gone. There was a moment last week where someone said something that really stuck with me. They got a small glimpse of what I’d been quietly shielding them from and just said, “I had no idea.” That moment hasn’t left me. It was a reminder of how much I held, and also why I had to stop.

I didn’t want it to end this way, but I needed to put myself first. That’s not something I’ve always been good at. There’s grief here—mourning what could’ve been—but there’s also this quiet sense of relief. I’m honestly physically so exhausted. Maybe from the stress. Maybe from the weight I’ve been carrying. Maybe going to Pilates 5-6 days a week. Probably all three.

There’s some comfort in knowing I’ll be starting fresh with just one job and one team. Even if I already know I’ll find myself wanting to take on more soon. I know that much about myself. But for now, I’m trying to let this ending be what it is: unfinished, imperfect, and still enough.

I know I’m replaceable. We all are. But that doesn’t mean I stop caring the moment I walk out the door. People keep telling me that in a few weeks, I won’t even think about it anymore. And maybe they’re right. But am I really the kind of person who just stops caring?

I don’t think so.

Maybe “stop caring” isn’t the right phrase. Maybe it just won’t sit at the front of my mind anymore. And maybe that’s what closure really looks like—not a clean break; it just gets quieter over time.