#permission

Bonus:

now i am back 🙈 sorry but I have to start working 🙈 buuuuut i wait and stop the edging 🙈

so on a table yes? 🥺 and normal? 😱😍

New rules shape the framework for the leave allowance this year. With the summer season in full swing, most workers are gearing up for their summer vacation. However, this year’s scheme includes changes that affect leave and the associated allowance that workers are expected to receive. Leave allowance: What’s changing this year Initially, the leave allowance for minimum wage earners is increased…

Some of you are looking for one defining moment, something that will tell you that you no longer need the old identity.

Almost as if you're waiting for permission to let go of the old skin before you can fully step into the new one.

Most people think closure is something another person gives them.

An explanation. An apology. An acknowledgment.

One final conversation that makes everything make sense.

But what most people call closure is actually resolution.

And let's be honest. Most of you don't actually want closure. Not really.

Because if you did, you'd stop replaying the same conversations, the same narratives, the same "what ifs" in your head.

You'd stop scrolling through the old texts, the old pictures, the old reminders of someone who doesn't even exist anymore.

Closure isn't about anything external. It's about you.

And honestly? You don't want it because you like the story you're telling yourself.

You like the sense of injustice, the sense that someone owes you an explanation, an apology, an acknowledgment.

Even if that someone is you.

That feeling—being wronged—is addictive.

It makes you feel justified.

It gives you something to chew on, something to rehearse endlessly in your head, and that's comfortable.

You don't want closure because if you got it, you'd have to stop existing in that mental space.

You'd have to take responsibility for your own peace instead of blaming someone else for your unrest.

You'd have to admit that the control you think they have over your happiness is a lie you've been feeding yourself.

The uncomfortable truth is that closure is often disappointing.

We imagine that one conversation, one apology, or one explanation will finally set us free.

But even when people get those things, many discover the pain remains.

Because the real problem was never the missing information. It was the attachment to needing it.

Closure isn't a package anyone hands to you.

It's a choice you make.

A decision to stop letting the past dictate your present.

To stop letting someone else's behavior—or their assumptions—define your reality.

Maybe that's why closure feels so difficult.

It's rarely about getting an answer.

It's about accepting that no one is coming to give you permission to become someone new.

You've been waiting for a conversation, an epiphany, an explanation, a sign.

But the identity shift you're waiting for can happen before any of those things arrive.

Sometimes moving on is simply deciding that the old story no longer gets a vote in who you become next or who you currently are.

You'll keep saying you want it. But until you're willing to stop needing them to say or do something, until you're willing to look at yourself and say, "I'm done waiting. I'm done needing," you'll never actually get it.

And that's fine.

The first step is just realizing it.

You don't want closure. You want your story to make sense, the way your brain keeps insisting it should. That's human.

But here's the kicker:

You can have peace without closure.

You can move forward without answers.

You can heal without an apology.

You can let go without understanding every detail of what happened.

Peace begins when you stop waiting for the past to become different.

Closure starts the moment you stop making your healing dependent on someone else's participation.

You don't need anyone else's permission to move on.