“You only get one life. It's actually your duty to live it as fully as possible.”
— Jojo Moyes, Me Before You

Letting go is not something that came naturally to me. In fact, for years I wasn’t even aware I was holding on to anything. I thought I had “moved on.” But my body — and mind — told a different story.

The idea of emotional release always sounded nice, even poetic. Just let go. But no one really tells you how. I wanted it to be quick, a light switch, a breath — and then peace. But for me, it started with something else entirely:

A lump in my throat.

It wasn’t painful. It wasn’t even dramatic. It just… sat there. Quiet, tense, familiar. And I didn’t know what it meant at first.

I Didn’t Know What I Was Feeling

I began reading Letting Go by Dr. David Hawkins at a time when I was physically and emotionally tired. I was looking for a way to feel lighter. I came across a sentence early on that stuck with me:

“We hang on to our negativity because of pride, because it fuels the ego, and because letting go of it is unfamiliar.”
— Letting Go, Chapter 2

That line hit something in me. Maybe I was holding on — not consciously, but out of habit, out of self-protection.

I followed the steps: feel the feeling, don’t resist, don’t label, just allow it. But when I sat quietly, I couldn’t even name the feeling. It was just this vague unease stuck in my body. I kept focusing on my throat, hoping something magical would happen — a big shift, a burst of clarity. Instead… nothing.

And to be honest? I felt disappointed. It was like waiting for a wave that never came.

Learning to Sit With Discomfort (Without Expecting Anything)

I kept reading, not just Hawkins but others too. In The Untethered Soul, Michael Singer writes:

“Eventually you will see that the real cause of the problem is not life itself. It's the commotion the mind makes about life that really causes the problems.”

That helped me loosen my grip — not on the emotion, but on the expectation of change. I stopped looking for a result. I started showing up just to feel. Without an agenda. Without fixing.

The second time I sat with that lump in my throat, I didn’t try to push it away or break it down. I simply acknowledged, “Okay. You’re here. I’m here too.” It sounds simple, but for me, that was a small shift — and it mattered.

Eventually, the sensation softened. Not gone, not transformed, but less intense. Over the weeks, it came and went. Then, one day, I realized it hadn’t been there for a while. I hadn’t made it leave. I had simply stopped gripping it.

The Body Always Knows

Reading The Body Keeps the Score reminded me that this healing didn’t need to be logical or verbal:

“The body keeps the score: If the memory of trauma is encoded in the viscera, in heartbreaking and gut-wrenching emotions, then it needs to be accessed and released physically.”
— Bessel van der Kolk

So I stopped looking for words and instead looked for sensations — tightness, heaviness, energy shifts. For me, letting go wasn’t dramatic. It was quiet, subtle, physical.

It wasn’t about replacing sadness with joy, or anxiety with peace. It was about creating space around those feelings — enough room to breathe.

What Letting Go Looks Like (For Me)

It looks like…

Noticing the tension before trying to name it.

Giving up the need for it to go away instantly.

Sitting with yourself like you would with a friend — patient, curious, soft.

Feeling the discomfort… and staying anyway.

And when the mind gets loud again — “This isn’t working!” “You’re doing it wrong!” — I remember Hawkins’ advice:

“Letting go is like the sudden cessation of an inner pressure or the dropping of a weight. It is accompanied by a feeling of relief and lightness.”

Yes, sometimes it does feel that way — but not always at first. That relief came for me later, after many small, mostly unnoticed shifts. But it came.

Final Thoughts

Letting go, for me, was never a one-time event. It’s something I practice now — regularly. Less a method, more a mindset. It’s not about fixing emotions; it’s about allowing them to move through.

So if you’re in the middle of it — sitting with that lump, that ache, that tightness — know that you're not alone. You don’t have to name it. You don’t have to solve it. You just have to feel it and let it be.

And that alone is enough to begin.

References and suggested reading:

Hawkins, D. R. (2012). Letting go: The pathway of surrender. Hay House, Inc.

van der Kolk, B. (2014). The body keeps the score: Brain, mind, and body in the healing of trauma. Viking.

Singer, M. A. (2007). The untethered soul: The journey beyond yourself. New Harbinger Publications.

Maté, G. (2019). When the body says no: The cost of hidden stress. Vintage Canada.

Brach, T. (2003). Radical acceptance: Embracing your life with the heart of a Buddha. Bantam.