The Unrelenting Lesson of Letting Go
If you follow me on Instagram or we’re friends on Facebook, you may have seen the photo I posted of a text thread between my two youngest sons and me. It went like this:
Me: Who wants to do a hike with me at fort ben today? Pleeeeeaaase.
Five minutes pass
Me: Please
Five more minutes pass
Me: Ok just tell me now if you’re dead because I need to move on with my life.
Within a minute… because he wants to spare me the worry and let me know he’s indeed alive, or he wants me to leave him alone. (My bet is on the latter.)
Jaden: I don’t really wanna go
Me: Why do you hate me
Thirty minutes pass
Jaden: At least I responded
Asher is home from college this weekend, and Jaden still lives at home, so I thought a little hike would be a great way to catch up and exercise rather than lazing around the house on yet another gray, winter day. Only that’s not at all what they had in mind for the weekend. Asher came home primarily to attend the Post Malone concert and see his friends. A Saturday afternoon hike with mom wasn’t even on the radar.
As much as I want to spend time with my boys, I understand. When I think back to the times I came home from college for a weekend, I can’t recall one time I made a point to really spend time with my parents. At least not intentionally unless it was a family wedding or a birthday. I loved my parents but they were not part of my social life, and my social life was at the core of my existence, as it is for most teenagers and those in their early 20s.
So I get it, but this lesson of letting go is relentless, and sometimes I wonder if I will ever master it. To varying degrees, I have had to let go of friendships, a marriage, my dad, a family lake house, a particular church and my children. Let me clarify; in some cases I chose to let go, in other cases the choice was made for me. Still, none of them were easy.
What I’ve learned along the way, however, is that letting go allows for new beginnings. Take my marriage, for example. Nearly a year after we separated, I approached my husband and asked if he wanted to give our marriage one more try. His response? “No, it’s time to move on.”
At that point, I didn’t see a new beginning. I saw an ending, a death. And I was faced with a choice. Many choices, actually. I could turn to my old coping strategy of drinking to numb the pain, or crawl into bed and stay there for days, wallowing in self-pity. I could beg and plead, hoping he would relent and give our marriage another try. I could harbor resentment, or drag his name through the mud.
Or, I could let go. And that is what I chose to do. Not gracefully and not quickly, but eventually, after the large wave of shock and grief subsided, I let go. And this is where the new beginnings took shape. There’s no road map to letting go, but I’ve landed on these four key ingredients in the action of letting go:
Acceptance. I accept the way things really are instead of how I want them to be. I release the idea of how I thought things would turn out, and ground myself in the way things are in the present moment.
Feelings. I feel the feelings that come with the disappointment that I didn’t get what I wanted. Sometimes that feels like sadness. Sometimes anger. Sometimes grief and depression. However they manifest. I walk through them, sometimes very s l o w l y but I do not ignore them or try to numb them.
Trust. I trust that God will grant me the strength I need to take the next step. I trust that he will show me how to release a particular relationship or habit that no longer serves me well. I also trust that God has equipped me with all I need to make healthy and wise decisions.
Gratitude. Gratitude is what seals the deal on acceptance. If I offer thanks for the person, place or thing in which I am letting go, I am ultimately accepting what was and what currently is. I give thanks that they once were part of my life and provided an opportunity for learning, growth and, in many cases, love.
Today as a result of these ongoing actions, I am in a healthy relationship with a man who loves and respects me as I do him. I have several beautiful friendships that are balanced and life-giving. I have sweet relationships with my mom and brothers, and while my boys may not want to hike with me every Saturday, we still spend time together and make meaningful memories. The work of letting go is rarely easy but the gifts of healing, joy and freedom are worth the effort.
