The Missing Step in "Let Them"- Tending to Your Emotions
- 56 minutes ago
- 5 min read
I walked into a bookstore the other day and saw that the book Let Them is still a bestseller nearly two years after publication. This concept based on ideas of acceptance and detachment struck a chord for millions of people. This two-word phrase has become a mantra for navigating everything from disagreements to relationship breakdowns.
Examples of "Let Them" Uses
If someone doesn't invite you to their 50th birthday? Let them.
If your adult child makes choices you don't agree with? Let them.
If a friend ghosts you and pulls away? Let them.
“Let them” is like detaching with love. It’s taking your hands off the steering wheel of someone else’s life. The genius of "let them" is that it helps us notice something many of us do without realizing it: We try to control other people to feel better ourselves. The moment we recognize this tendency, we gain an opportunity to respond differently.
But this is just the first step.
Knowing we should "let them" doesn't necessarily make it easier to let go of our desire for people to change. If it were that easy, there would be far fewer controlling relationships, fewer codependent patterns, and far less emotional suffering.
So, in these circumstances, why is “let them” so hard? As an AEDP psychotherapist, I’d like to share a clinical example that you may relate to–even if you’re not in psychotherapy.
Sarah's Story
This story highlights the complexities of recognizing painful emotions and the brilliant ways we avoid them. How we respond to our complex emotional lives plays a significant role in our ability to find wisdom in the “let them” mindset.
Consider Sarah, a woman in her 50s whose daughter just graduated from high school. To celebrate her milestone, Sarah’s daughter left for a weeklong camping trip with her best friends. It’s the first time Sarah has let her daughter really “adult” and leave home without supervision.
Feeling a tad anxious, Sarah texts her daughter and says, “Remember to be careful. And did you take the bug spray and food I bought for you?” But she doesn't hear back from her.
Her mind starts spinning.
“Why isn't she responding?”
“Is she upset with me?”
“Is this what it’s going to be like when she goes to college?”
Sarah knows the "let them" philosophy. She tells herself, "She's doing her own thing. Let her live her life."
Despite her best efforts, however, she keeps checking her phone. Her compulsion is reminiscent of waiting by her landline for her crush to call during high school. When Sarah’s daughter doesn’t text back after 2 minutes, she fervently drafts a text, “Let me know if you’re still alive!”
Thankfully, she recognizes her own histrionics and doesn’t push send.
What's happening? From the outside, it looks like Sarah is an overprotective parent with a control problem. But beneath her urge for control lies something deeper.
The need to control others or a situation is a “defense mechanism.” Many of us associate “defense mechanisms” with Freud, discarding them as outdated psychobabble that holds no relevance today.
Defenses, however, are not nonsense. They are the brilliant ways we protect ourselves from our underlying “core emotions” -- that we fear or believe we cannot bear or shouldn't even have. Here is a list of common defenses.
Core emotions emotions are body-based programs that evolved for survival and so humans could thrive, just like thirst and hunger. What most people still haven’t learned is that these emotions are present in all of us and they are not under conscious control.
Core emotions prompt us to take actions that benefit us. A good example is fear. If a bear crossed your path, you’d immediately start running. Fear is the program that prompts the body to run.
When our core emotions are not validated, starting in childhood, we learn to bury or suppress them. And this was what was happening for Sarah.
Underlying Sarah’s deep need to control her daughter was fear: fear of being forgotten, fear of losing connection, and fear of abandonment.
There was also sadness: sadness about her impending empty nest and her daughter needing her less.
And let’s not forget about anger. Part of Sarah resented how much she had sacrificed and how little appreciation she received in return. In one of her unsent text drafts, Sarah said, “You’re so ungrateful! You won’t answer me. I feel so disrespected!”
Sarah’s core emotions were not created by the present moment alone. They were amplified by her earlier attachment experiences.
Sarah grew up feeling unseen, unimportant, and emotionally alone. Whenever she felt sad, angry, or afraid, her parents accused her of being “overly sensitive.” Whenever she cried, her father called her a “drama queen” or a “crybaby.” These shaming words left Sarah feeling alone. Yet as a child, she relied on her parents for her care and survival. And so Sarah did what we all do when we’re left alone with our emotions: she learned to bury them and manage them with protective defenses.
Even though Sarah loves the “let them” theory, the problem isn’t that she hasn’t learned the right cognitive strategy; Sarah’s nervous system was sounding an alarm.
In my work as an AEDP psychotherapist, I teach a tool called the Change Triangle, which maps how emotions operate in the mind and body.
The Change Triangle is emotions 101. It’s the basic emotions education we all need, but few of us get. (You can print out a copy here.)
At the bottom of the triangle are our core emotions—fear, sadness, anger, joy, excitement, and disgust. Above them are inhibitory emotions such as anxiety, shame, and guilt. At the top are defenses: the automatic strategies we use to avoid emotional discomfort. Examples include overthinking, worrying, people-pleasing, criticizing, controlling, and obsessing. (Not to mention addiction and depression.)
These defenses are not character flaws. They are attempts to manage emotional pain. When Sarah struggled to “let” her daughter have her freedom, she was caught in a defense.
Tending to Emotions with the Change Triangle as the Guide
As Sarah slowed down, she noticed tightness in her chest, a lump in her throat, and a sinking feeling in her stomach. Instead of trying to outsmart her distress, she began to acknowledge her emotions. “Of course, I'm sad.” My daughter is leaving soon for college, she reminded herself.
“Of course, I'm scared.” I fear losing our deep connection, and my daughter’s silence highlights this fear.
“Of course, I’m angry.” My daughter didn’t respond, and her silence felt like an attack, a dagger to my heart.
When emotions are named, validated, and experienced in the body, something remarkable happens. The nervous system begins to settle. The emotional energy moves through rather than remaining stuck.
Only then does "let them" become more than a slogan. It becomes a possible choice.
The phrase "let them" helps us identify our impulse to control. This is brilliant. Emotional freedom, however, requires another step. To stop the impulse to control others, we must feel and process the emotions our defenses try to protect us from. In other words, before we can truly “let them,” we need to tend to the emotions that exist deep within us.
Sarah realized that her daughter’s need for independence was not a rejection. It was a healthy and normal part of becoming an adult. Sarah’s ability to fully see her daughter deepened their relationship. Their conversations became more authentic, enjoyable, and loving.
"Let them" is a powerful beginning. An education in emotions helps us complete the journey.
Details and names have been changed for patient privacy.
