Raspberry Iced M

Society’s widely accepted “pop culture” therapeutic methodology has, in the last couple of years, adopted a new, seemingly simple solution to all of our problems.

“Let Them.”

Mel Robbins wrote a book in 2024, introducing a new approach to relationships and personal power. Its track record speaks for itself. It’s been a #1 New York Times Best Seller. The meat of the book suggests that those two words – “Let Them” – can free us from the burden of trying to manage other people.

At its core, the “Let Them” theory consists of two essential parts:

1. Give other people the freedom to be who they are, to think what they think, and to do what they do. Cease all attempts to control what is uncontrollable; and
2. Focus on our own responses and actions and take ownership and responsibility for what we actually can control – ourselves.

The book bases this theory on actual scientific research – research that suggests that 70% of the population at large lives in chronic stress, trying to control others, and stress rewires our brains, making us more likely to doubt ourselves, procrastinate, burn out, and struggle with comparison. The book explains that the humans are neither capable nor equipped to actually control another person’s thoughts or actions. It also reports, with statistics, that attempting to manage others creates resistance and resentment.

Want proof in the pudding? All humans have a hardwired need for control. But adults can only control their own behavior – no one else’s. Having free will means that people only change when they choose it.

In practice, the “Let Them” mindset theoretically frees us from victimization. When we adopt this way of thinking, we are allegedly able to slough off offense, thereby regaining power over our own lives.

It sounds clean. Empowered.

Let them misunderstand. Let them leave. Let them judge. Let them walk away.

It is easy to do when you’re on a soapbox of self-righteousness. When, in your own head, you can justify your own actions.

It is a lot harder, though, when shame is still sitting on top of your chest whispering, “What if they’re right?“

My entire identity, with a few exceptions, has been built on the expectations of others. Make more money. Cook. Clean. Wear this outfit. Say this thing. Attend that event.

All of those expectations are polite but pressured ways of saying, “Give me what I want. Bend to my needs.”

And when I bent, it was with a grudge. Or it was dishonest. When I didn’t, I put my relationships with those people in jeopardy. I could never win. I could never rest. I never had complete dominion over my own life. My decisions were rooted in fear or overreaction or panic. Sometimes I made choices out of empathy for others. Sometimes I made choices that were misaligned with everything I know to be right, just so I could protect my routine, my sense of safety, and what few “good” characteristics other people thought I had. Other times, I made choices out of sheer, unprecedented selfishness, because I was sad, or because I needed excitement, or because I just wanted to “feel better” or distract myself from my own stress.

None of it satisfied me.

Living through the lens of others’ perceptions backfires. It is disingenuous, for one. For another, it is an impossible thing to manage, because the standards, opinions, goals, and circumstances of other people vary widely.

But “letting them” doesn’t mean you’re healed. It just means you’re choosing stability, from this point forward.

And here’s how I am slowly learning to do that.

1. I separate facts from feelings. Until very recently, I adopted the concept of “your feelings are valid.” And insofar as feelings can be acknowledged, that might be true. But shame? That’s a feeling. It’s not a verdict. And just because I “feel” exposed does not mean I am necessarily guilty of what other people assume. The motives I have always had for the decisions I have made, while sometimes misplaced and/or misaligned, have never been ill-intended. And while it is understood that intentions do not always matter in comparison to our actions, I am not a malicious or crazy or evil person. Nevertheless, it is not my duty or responsibility to change or argue with those whose minds are made up.
2. I leave room for others’ interpretations. It is impossible to edit someone else’s internal narrative. “Feelings” are impossible to debate. Now, I explain once, if necessary. Then I step back. Over-explaining is self-defense, but it’s not clarity. If anything, it’s panic.
3. I allow discomfort without correcting it. Shame pushes us to want to fix, soften, even appease. Now I pause. I let discomfort exist in my own life. And I let discomfort exist in others’ lives. I am learning not to rush to repair something that (1) may not even need repair; or (2) may be better left alone.
4. I try to remember that growth does not erase my past – but it does create room for more informed future choices. I have made mistakes. I have been immature. Reactive. Avoidant at times, overly attached other times. Shame wants those things to be permanent. But growth proves change.
5. I don’t confuse silence with agreement. When accused of something, when called names, when placed in a figurative box that comes with labels, I once jumped to my own defense. I no longer do, or at least I try not to. But just because I stopped defending myself doesn’t mean I am guilty of others’ accusations. Sometimes my own peace is more beneficial.
6. I leave room for disappointment. I exhaust myself when I try to control what others think about me. And not once have I ever been successful. Like everyone else, I am allowed to make choices that don’t center around the comfort (or even approval) of other people.
7. I am learning to stop auditing my worth in real time. Shame pushes us to constantly scan. Was I too much? Too little? Did I say it wrong? It is not healthy or productive to live on trial inside my own life.
8. I own what is mine – but only what’s mine. Accountability is powerful. Self-condemnation is corrosive. When evaluating my bad decisions, if I’ve apologized, if I’ve tried to repair, if I’ve learned from any given choice I’ve made and adjusted accordingly, I stop serving time for it – even if other people use those bad decisions as justification for their disapproval, hatred, or the like.
9. I leave the door open for others to believe what aligns with their capacity. It is very easy to judge someone else’s behavior when life has handed us different sets of circumstances. It is easy for other people to assign to me the role of villain in their lives, because it protects their version of events. I have been guilty of doing the same thing. But we can change the titles others give us without breaking ourselves over and over.
10. I am trying to trust who I am now – not what I was at my worst. This is the hardest one. Shame loves to freeze us at our lowest point. Shame’s goal is replay every mistake we’ve ever made over and over in our heads. But “letting them” requires a belief that there are no absolutes. We are more complex than our worst season. And we are allowed to evolve even if someone else will only ever see the bad.

This concept – “Let Them” – isn’t indifference.

I just choosing not to bleed in public just to prove I’m “good.”

“Letting them” is my way of saying that I have faced myself honestly, that I am putting effort into growing where needed, and that I am not perfect, only accountable.

That is enough, even if shame hasn’t packed its bags yet.