No Time for Goodbyes: What Martin's Exit Tells Us About Play, Parenting, and the Hidden Power of Closure

Introduction

The ways we manage transitions and endings in relationships are as important as our capacity for joy and connection. The Solihull Approach conceptualises this as the Dance of Reciprocity—a rhythmic, back-and-forth process that underpins not only child development but the emotional health of all relationships throughout life. Understanding where we struggle in the dance—and how to become better equipped—offers a practical, compassionate pathway for parents, carers, and professionals alike.

Struggling With Endings: Martin's Unfinished Goodbye

The awkwardness that Martin feels at the idea of a public leaving do is far from unusual. In everyday life, difficulties at the "end of peak" or closing phase of interactions ripple into multiple contexts:

• Difficulty ending conversations: Continuing to talk long after the signals for closure have appeared, unable to "land the plane".
• Aversion to goodbyes: Avoiding farewells, slipping away quietly, or downplaying departures.
• Problems with playful transitions: Prolonging games with children even after the child is tired, or feeling unable to "wind down" after excitement.
• Major life transitions: Staying in jobs, roles, or even relationships out of discomfort with change or separation.

Martin's story acts as a window into these broader struggles—when endings feel like something to be survived or avoided, opportunities for closure and affirmation are lost for everyone involved. As we explore in our companion essay on stress and memory, when our brain perceives threat or overwhelming pressure, the limbic system can hijack our best intentions, making natural transitions feel dangerous rather than satisfying.

Additional Everyday Examples: The End of Excitement

Understanding the universality of these struggles becomes clearer when we explore them beyond work farewells. Three additional examples, drawn from daily life and parenting, illustrate how transitions are negotiated—or mishandled—in many everyday situations.

Where Does This Come From? The Science and Early Learning

Research in child development and attachment supports what these examples illustrate: our ability to navigate endings, transitions, and closures is largely learned in the first years of life. As the Solihull Approach highlights, skills for handling the "deceleration" and "withdrawal" phases of the Dance of Reciprocity develop through repeated, sensitive care—moments when carers support winding down, say clear goodbyes, and model emotional containment.

When adults lack these skills, the gaps emerge not only in childhood but throughout adult life—in social events, work tasks, and parenting moments alike. Understanding how stress responses can shut down our thinking brain (as explored in our companion essay on brain function under pressure) helps explain why endings can feel so threatening and why our nervous system sometimes chooses avoidance over completion.

The Seven Stages of the Dance

To understand where things go wrong—and how to develop better skills—we need to map the full choreography of reciprocal interaction. The Dance of Reciprocity unfolds through seven distinct stages:

1. Initiation — Either party signals a desire to interact (often through eye contact or gestures).
2. Orientation — Both parties become aware of each other and focus their attention.
3. State of Attention — The connection deepens, with both being attentive to each other.
4. Acceleration — The interaction becomes more lively or emotionally charged.
5. Peak of Excitement — The interaction reaches its most intense point of joint engagement or emotional excitement.
6. Deceleration — The intensity of the interaction decreases as one or both parties begin to feel satisfied or overwhelmed.
7. Withdrawal/Turning Away — The parties disengage, signalling the end of that interactional sequence; this is crucial for processing and integrating the experience.

Re-examining Our Examples Through the Seven Stages

Now that we understand the full choreography, let's revisit our examples to see exactly where the dance broke down—and how these patterns might feel familiar.

Emma's Dinner Party: Missing the Deceleration Signals

Emma and her guests moved beautifully through Initiation to Peak of Excitement—everyone fully engaged, laughter flowing, wonderful connection achieved. But as the evening naturally entered Deceleration, Emma couldn't read the signals. The yawning and watch-glancing weren't rudeness; they were her guests' way of saying "This has been wonderful, and now we're ready for Withdrawal/Turning Away." By offering more drinks, Emma was essentially trying to drag everyone back to stage 4 (Acceleration) when what was needed was gentle support for stages 6 and 7. The result? An ending that satisfied no one.

James and Leo: The Inability to Let Go

James and Leo's imaginative play flowed naturally through stages 1-5. Initiation through playful invitation, building Attention and Acceleration through shared stories, reaching genuine Peaks of Excitement together. But when Leo began showing Deceleration cues—becoming quieter, less responsive, needing breaks—James couldn't see them. His instinct was to reignite the excitement, to prevent the natural Withdrawal/Turning Away that Leo needed. Leo's meltdowns weren't evidence of a difficult child; they were his only way to force the ending that should have happened naturally.

Maria and Sophie: Skipping Straight to the End

Maria and Sophie's jungle adventure reached a beautiful Peak of Excitement—pure connection and shared imagination. But when reality intruded (dinner time), Maria jumped straight from stage 5 to an abrupt stage 7, skipping Deceleration entirely. Sophie needed time to wind down, to process what they'd shared, to gradually withdraw from their imaginary world. Instead, she was thrust into immediate disconnection with no bridge between peak excitement and separation. Her subsequent acting out wasn't defiance—it was dysregulation from a dance left incomplete.

Martin's Exit: Avoiding the Dance Entirely

Martin's workplace departure reveals perhaps the most telling pattern. Rather than risk the vulnerability of stages 6 and 7—the Deceleration of a public farewell and the Withdrawal/Turning Away of genuine goodbyes—he chose to avoid the dance altogether. His quiet exit protected him from the discomfort he anticipated, but it also denied him and his colleagues the closure and affirmation that a complete dance provides. This same pattern likely plays out in Martin's personal relationships: quick departures, avoided goodbyes, relationships that end with a whimper rather than proper completion.

Beyond Neurodevelopment: A Generational Perspective

Awkwardness or avoidance around the end of interactions is sometimes attributed to neurodiversity (Autism Spectrum Disorder, ADHD). Yet, the evidence and clinical experience emphasise a broader perspective: relational deficits can span generations, as parents model what they themselves received. A grandparent who struggled with goodbyes may unconsciously pass this discomfort through the family, transmitting a pattern of abrupt, avoided, or over-extended endings.

Within this framework, being "unequipped" for the full Dance of Reciprocity is not a personal failing, but an opportunity for growth—for individuals, families, and communities alike.

Adult Adaptation: Working With, Not Against, Our Patterns

Here lies perhaps the most important insight: our early experiences in relationships are so powerful that the underlying patterns they create may be impossible to fundamentally shift. If you learned early that endings are dangerous, overwhelming, or to be avoided, that learning runs deep—deeper than conscious thought, embedded in the nervous system itself.

But as adults, we can adapt. We can develop strategies that work with and around our engrained responses rather than fighting them. This means learning to go against what feels "natural" in the moment, because what feels natural to us may be precisely what needs changing. This embodies the principle of Feed the Solution, Starve the Problem—instead of focusing on what's wrong with our endings, we build new pathways for what we want to see.

Practical Adaptation Strategies

If you recognise yourself in these examples, consider that your struggle with stages 6 and 7 may be adaptive responses learned long ago. Rather than expecting to suddenly feel comfortable with endings, you might:

• Prepare consciously for transitions: If your instinct is to avoid stage 7, plan for endings in advance. "This play session will last 20 minutes, then we'll tidy up together."
• Watch for others' deceleration signals: Since you might not naturally read stage 6 cues, learn them intellectually. Decreased eye contact, quieter responses, fidgeting, checking the time.
• Practice small endings: Build tolerance for stage 7 through brief, low-stakes practice. End phone calls warmly, say proper goodbyes after visits, acknowledge when activities complete.
• Create playful practice: As explored in our companion essay on play and learning, playful environments provide the optimal conditions for practising these skills without triggering stress responses.
• Narrate the process: Use words to bridge what your nervous system finds difficult. "That was really fun, and now it's time to wind down."
• Seek support for your own regulation: If endings consistently overwhelm you, ensure you have your own strategies for managing the emotional charge they bring.

The goal isn't to rewire decades of learning overnight. It's to develop conscious competence in areas where your unconscious patterns might be unhelpful. This is adaptation, not transformation—working intelligently with who you are rather than demanding you become someone else. Feed the Solution, Starve the Problem: focus your energy on building the completion skills you want rather than fighting the avoidance patterns you don't.

Building Skills for Transitions and Endings: What Parents and Adults Can Do

So, how do we move from awkwardness or avoidance to skill and confidence in handling transitions and closure? Being "equipped to play"—and to relate—means intentionally developing strategies that work with our patterns rather than against them.

• Self-awareness: Notice when you feel discomfort about endings, when you overextend social moments, or cut experiences too sharply. This awareness is the foundation for conscious choice.
• Conscious preparation: Since our instincts around stages 6 and 7 may be unreliable, prepare for transitions in advance. Plan endings, set time boundaries, anticipate the need for closure.
• Learning others' signals: If reading deceleration cues doesn't come naturally, learn them deliberately. Watch for the subtle signs that indicate readiness for transition.
• Practising closure: Narrate transitions ("The game is nearly finished, shall we tidy up together?"), acknowledge emotions ("That was really fun, and now it's time for something else"), and invite co-participation in ending processes.
• Understanding play's role: Recognise that playful environments create optimal conditions for practising endings and transitions. As our companion essay explores, play naturally supports the full Dance of Reciprocity cycle.
• Containment and repair: If a transition goes awry—leading to upset or frustration—return to address it: "It looks like stopping play was hard for you. Let's have a cuddle before we do something new."
• Modelling endings: Provide calm, attentive examples so that children and peers see that endings can hold affirmation, gratitude, and safety—not just loss or awkwardness.

In making endings as deliberate and nurturing as beginnings, we build relationships capable of weathering change with resilience and warmth. Feed the Solution, Starve the Problem: every positive ending experience strengthens the neural pathways for satisfying closure rather than anxious avoidance.

Conclusion

Whether in boardrooms, kitchens, playgrounds, or family living rooms, the closing measures of the Dance of Reciprocity matter. By recognising where the dance falters—and being willing to learn new steps—parents and adults can transform endings from points of tension into moments of connection and growth. This is not only a gift to the children in our care but a profound act of self-compassion and intergenerational healing.