Whenever I hear someone tell someone else, or make a general open call declaration to Let it go, or worse Just let it go, I cringe. Even if it would be a top notch idea to do so, it feels trite and dismissive to me in the context in which it commonly gets used. It is my firm belief that even when we have the very best of intentions (and we always do), instructing someone else to Just let it go is not only not helpful, but oftentimes actively causes harm.
Don’t get me wrong. I absolutely believe that the practice of letting go is a thing that makes good sense. I also believe that there’s room for us to utilize the words “let it go” when engaging in dialog with our own self. But I do not think it’s any sort of good idea to direct these words to anyone else (unless maybe you’re super close to them and there’s trust established and you can deliver these words with tender care and deep understanding).
When I say there’s room for us to use these words with our own self, that means there’s a possibility that it’s not a good idea, too. If we bark this in command to ourselves, use it as a cover-up or bypass, or attempt to apply this directive in times when we’re not at the letting go stage yet, these words can be a dagger.
I’ve personally experienced both ways this can go. I’ve told myself to let it go during times when it’s been genuinely helpful, and times when it’s made things a lot worse. Just a couple of weeks ago, en route to the Humane Society to deliver a stray cat that showed up at our cabin that we couldn’t keep, after being turned away by Animal Control, who over the phone told me they would take her, time was of the essence. We were an hour from home with the cat in tow and had driven to town for the sole purpose of trying to find placement for the cat. The Humane Society agreed to take her, but would soon be closing for the day. En route, we ran into rush hour traffic. There was nothing we could do to expedite our travel situation. We were at the whim and mercy of the slow moving banquet of cars. Whenever we were at a vehicular standstill, my anxiety flared. I worried we wouldn’t make it there before they closed. It was then that I guided myself to let it go. There was nothing we could do. We just had to ride the wave of traffic and hope for the best. And if it wound up that we didn’t get there in time, we’d simply have to come up with a plan B. I literally said to myself: Okay buddy, let it go. There’s nothing else you can do right now. You’re doing your best. In this instance, encouraging myself to let it go worked a treat. Please note that I didn’t use these words in isolation. I surrounded let it go with other self-befriending statements. I think this is really important. As a stand alone prompt, I’m not sure let it go has much potency. Pairing it with other self-care sentiments, however, greatly increases the likelihood for skillful effectiveness.
Here’s how I’ve experienced this going sour. Someone I once considered to be a mentor, and whom I still have great affection for, commonly referred to me as ‘kiddo’ for a number of years. As a grown woman, I really disliked this nickname. It felt demeaning. But knowing this person had good intentions and meant it endearingly, I told myself over and over to let it go. I allowed it to go on for years until I mustered up the courage to say something about it. In this instance, encouraging myself to let it go was detrimental. I was dismissing my own hurt feelings and trying to leap-frog over something that was actually really important to address.
There are skillful ways to make use of the practice & process of letting go and there are unskillful ways. To help me discern the difference, I can tune into whether or not there’s an emotional component involved. Oftentimes, if I’m feeling hurt or upset or angry, it indicates something within me is in need of tending to with care, and it’s specifically not the time for encouraging myself to let it go, whatever the it is. Self-awareness and self-investigation are key. Without these pieces activated, it’s easy to have no idea, or profoundly misunderstand, what letting go even means.
Something I’ve come to understand for myself is that unless it’s regarding something relatively mundane, letting go is a practice I can embark on only after I intentionally apply effort in the process that it takes to get there. If, for example, my feelings get hurt, I first need to acknowledge and recognize that my feelings have been hurt. I need to make space for those feelings to exist as part of my human experience, and then figure out how to tend well to myself in the midst of the hurt feelings, however uncomfortable or unfamiliar it is to do so. In time, I need to look deeply in order to discover where those feelings stem from and what brought them about. I then need to determine whether I want to bring it to the attention of the other person or not. If I try to skip over all of this, it’s the equivalent of pretending I’m fine when I’m super not. When this happens, I then put myself in the potentially volatile position of erupting over little things, exploding later on over something totally unrelated, or carrying an increasing weight of resentment. In short, I become a ticking time-bomb.
It’s a revolutionary act to feel our feelings. Unfortunately, we’ve inherited some really strong stigma around what it means to be a person that feels their feelings. We’re deemed over-emotional or naive or silly or weak. We’re taught that if we feel our feelings, we’ll be flooded and taken down into the depths of despair; that it’s selfish to even consider our own internal landscape, let alone cultivate its quality of care; that we need to man up/buckle down/just let it go.
This is me wanting to give us all permission to let it in. To feel it. Once we know how to let it in, then we can practice letting it go.
going outwords & inwords 
I am nodding throughout while reading this post. I 100% agree with everything you say.
I have had someone say let it go, or words on that line and that person knew me very well. It was trauma stuff that at the time I was angry on and that still affected me. Letting go added to that anger.
Thank you so much for reading and sharing your experience Liz. I appreciate hearing how this post landed for you. I am often a bit amazed about how often people see fit to tell others to let go of something. My sense is it’s an attempt for others to manage their own discomfort of not knowing how to handle someone else’s emotions.