Sometimes your future is written in your goodbyes.

“Two days after she told me she loved me, she shouted that she couldn’t stand me and so I kicked her out of my house and slammed the door. For good,” my friend Karl said, processing a heavy breakup.

Do you have fiery goodbyes with door slams? Or quiet conversations where you calmly give each other platitudes before saying “Sayonara”?

This post isn’t just for romance—we’ll get to business too. After all, everything in life comes down to relationships..

But first-The breakup. You know –THAT one.

• Did you choose the dramatic exit, accusations hurled like grenades?
• Or did you opt for quieter goodbyes? Something that acknowledges what was real, what you’ll carry forward as you walk away.

It’s not easy. Going nuclear is soooo tempting as opposed to finding kind things to say when your stomach does summersaults.

But the world is devastatingly small.

So….

➡️ 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗿 doing layoffs (so many these days), do you grant the soon-to-be departed dignity? OR cut cords like broken equipment?

➡️ 𝗜𝗳 𝘆𝗼𝘂’𝗿𝗲 𝗮𝗻 𝗲𝗺𝗽𝗹𝗼𝘆𝗲𝗲 fleeing for greener pastures, do you stomp out with complaints OR leave with gratitude for what the role taught you?

Your ending will find you again.

Interestingly, I’m friends with most men I dated. One invited me to his wedding. Another—now a prominent VC—offered career wisdom over coffee last Fall He provided that type of honest feedback that only comes from someone who’s seen you at your worst ugly cry and still thinks you’re worth a bet.

Plus…
⭐ Old bosses send referrals.
⭐ Former colleagues become co-conspirators.
⭐ And everyone does off-the-record background checks through whispered networks.

That person you dismissed yesterday might sit across tomorrow’s conference table, deciding if you get the deal.

I haven’t always ended things well. A door or two has slammed, for sure. I’ve had moments of total immaturity, choosing fleeting satisfaction over long-term calm. But there are learnings there too.

Endings are everywhere.

Relationships, jobs, seasons of self. We obsess over beginnings—the first date, the first day, the grand opening. But endings? We wing it and often react instead of respond.

Here’s what I wish someone had told me earlier: 𝙃𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙡𝙚𝙖𝙫𝙚 𝙨𝙖𝙮𝙨 𝙢𝙤𝙧𝙚 𝙖𝙗𝙤𝙪𝙩 𝙮𝙤𝙪𝙧 𝙘𝙝𝙖𝙧𝙖𝙘𝙩𝙚𝙧 𝙩𝙝𝙖𝙣 𝙝𝙤𝙬 𝙮𝙤𝙪 𝙖𝙧𝙧𝙞𝙫𝙚. Anyone can show up well-dressed and charming. But walking away with grace? That’s advanced-level humanity.

When you end something well, you’re not really closing a door—you’re leaving it ajar.

So the next time you’re facing an ending—and you will be, we all will—ask yourself: What kind of story do I want this person telling about me in five years?

𝗧𝗵𝗲𝗻 𝗲𝗻𝗱 𝗶𝘁 𝗹𝗶𝗸𝗲 𝘁𝗵𝗮𝘁.

Originally on Linkedin here