What Happened When I Learned to Let Go

I Thought Holding On Made Me Strong — Until I Realized the Real Strength Was in Release

Photo by Gabriel Benois on Unsplash

I used to think letting go meant failure.
Giving up.
Quitting.

I believed that if I just tried hard enough, held on tight enough, cared more deeply or fought more fiercely, things would work out.
People would stay.
Dreams would unfold the way I imagined.
Pain would turn into something poetic, something worthwhile.

So I held on — for too long. To relationships that were draining me. To expectations that were crushing me. To identities I had outgrown, but didn’t know how to shed.

I was loyal to a version of my life that no longer existed.

Letting go wasn’t something I had been taught. I had been taught to endure. To strive. To work harder.

“Don’t give up” was the mantra, even when the thing I was gripping was already broken.

And then, slowly, painfully, I learned: letting go is not weakness.
It’s grace.

It started with a relationship.
One I had wrapped my whole sense of self around.