The Importance Of Good Endings

Yesterday, I said goodbye to the school I have worked at for 17 years. I started in 2009 as a 25 year-old, and I leave in 2026 at 42. It feels like a lifetime, because I was a different person then. I have held multiple roles there during my time and taught thousands of adolescents. It’s not just me who has changed - there are now only echoes of the institution I joined just a couple of years into my career. And my connection to the place stretches back even further; in one way or another it can be traced back as far as the mid-90s. So believe me when I say that yesterday was huge. I wasn’t just “leaving a job” - I was leaving home, and leaving behind a huge part of my identity.

In a situation like this, tapping into our self-awareness and all parts of ourselves is really important. Not only that, but accepting all those parts is crucial, despite the contradictions. Over the past few years I have still loved my school dearly, yet known I wanted to leave. I have started many days with anxiety and moved from telling myself that I was being silly seeing as there was no logical explanation for this (and the anxiety disappeared once I was there anyway), to accepting that this was just the way it was - and the fact that it was happening was useful “data”, even if I couldn’t explain it. The contradictory part to this was that at the same time, when I pictured the act of leaving, it scared me. (I actually have butterflies as I type this, so my body clearly remembers).

During the period of the past few years, while my therapist was encouraging me to listen to my Child ego state, I came to realise that we can have everything we need “on paper”, but something still isn’t right. (This is something I help my clients with now, in fact). If you were to create a tick-list of everything a school or job could offer, in theory I couldn’t want for more. But I did, despite me wishing that what I had could be enough. I could write so much more on the complexity of this situation, but that isn’t the purpose of this blog post. I suggest that if you recognise some of your own situation in what I am saying so far, then submit an enquiry and let’s have a Connection session.

Fast forward to the ending: once I had got to the point (with the help of my therapist) to take the final leap off the diving board, I handed in my resignation letter….over a year in advance! This may sound crazy, but I am so glad I did. Because schools function on an annual cycle, handing my notice in on 26th June 2025 meant that once the new school year started the following September, I went into it knowing that every moment in that annual cycle would be my last time. This was especially important at times such as the yearly prize giving ceremony, traditionally one of my favourite school events. Because I knew each event was the last time I would experience it, I could soak it up and enjoy it - I could really be present and feel the weight of it being the final time.

Lots of people asked me during the year, “Are you counting down the days?” The answer was yes, I literally did count down the days in my diary. Not because I was so impatient to leave (although sometimes I was!), but because it was the process of counting down that was important. I was consciously taking the journey closer and closer to the final day and noticing the multiple responses I was having along the way. In psychotherapy training, good, conscious endings have always been emphasised and carried out - now I realise the importance of this, because a good ending allows you to move on. As in, really move on.

My journal has been a constant companion on this journey. I have used it to record things that happened each day and my reflections on them, my feelings - and there have been many - and used it, therefore, to really digest everything that was going on for me internally. As I am AuDHD, I am particularly deeply responsive psychologically to stimuli and enjoy the act of recording the minutiae of my life and my responses to them.

The year passed slowly, then the final couple of weeks came all at once. A few months before, I had planned my ritual around the final day itself: I would say all of my goodbyes, then I would walk home. Nothing prepared me for the outpouring of appreciation from pupils, colleagues and parents - and I made sure I showed my appreciation in return. I gave some gifts, wrote some cards, and delivered a lengthy, heartfelt speech. Following the speech, I had conversations with my Headteacher and colleagues where we exchanged sincere words of gratitude and shared what we valued in one another. Then there came a moment where I sensed that it was done: I had said everything I wanted to say, I had heard everything I needed to hear, I was physically and emotionally depleted, but I was also full. I was done. As my therapist had said to me the day before: My job there was done.

So in all, it was sad that it was the end of a long era in my life, but I walked home feeling proud at how I had managed this year-long ending. I had spent so long over the process of ending that when the final moment came I was psychologically finished, with nothing left over. I can handle the idea that I may never walk into the building again, I can handle the idea that the annual cycle will begin in September without me, I can handle that this great institution is now a part of my past.

What do you take from reading this? The invitation to you is to reflect on how you manage endings in your own life. Do you avoid them? Do you scuttle out the door and leave things unsaid? Do you acknowledge death, or do you use euphemisms? Have you ended a relationship without the other person knowing that you are ending it, by simply ignoring them? As a therapist, how my clients handle an ending is really informative. The best endings are where therapist and client meet one final time and exchange intimate reflections on the impact of our relationship and our work. However, sadly, this does not always happen. Perhaps a client finds endings, or intimacy, too difficult, and and simply stops responding to the therapist’s contact. However, it is always okay to reach out again and try a different way.

Endings are going to happen in our lives whether we like them or not, and whether we are good at them or not…so we might as well get good at them! Whether it’s ending a long-term job, the children are leaving home, a relative has a terminal illness, a marriage is ending, or even the smaller-scale endings, such as holidays or even the ending of each day, consider how you will “make a good ending” so that the space is fully open for the inevitable new beginning that will follow.

For me, I am now forming a new identity as a psychotherapist. I will always consider “teacher” to be a part of my identity and it’s one that I am proud of, but I am at peace with leaving my school behind. Now that I have, there is space there for others to take my place and have their time to put down roots, and I can look ahead to the next chapter of my professional life and the freedom that self-employment will bring.

If you live in or near Aldridge (Walsall) or the Jewellery Quarter (Birmingham) and you need my help processing an ending, just as my therapist did with me, please get in touch. I have spent many hours talking to my therapist about my thoughts and feelings about leaving my school - there is no limit on the number of sessions you can take, nor does it matter if you repeat yourself (I certainly did!). Psychological processing really is like eating - you need to chew thoroughly and completely before you can swallow.

Is there an ending approaching for you? How can you make it a good one?

Sophie