When Holding On Stops Serving You

Letting go can begin with noticing what we are carrying, why it made sense to carry it, how it has served us, and what it is costing us now.

What Are You Still Carrying?

One of my coaching clients, let’s call her Donna, asked me during a coaching session how to let go.

Donna was downsizing and moving into a smaller place. She knew she would have less room for the furniture, dishes, clothes, boxes, keepsakes, and all the things that had accumulated over the years. But as we talked, it became clear that she was sorting through more than household belongings. She was also trying to sort through a life that had changed.

Her children were grown and living on their own. She was living alone after her divorce. The house that had once held a family now felt too big, too quiet, and too full. As she talked about deciding what to keep and what to release, she also talked about old roles, old commitments, old dreams, and old emotions that still seemed to have a hold on her.

When Downsizing Is About More Than Stuff

As I listened to Donna, I thought about something much simpler that had happened recently at my own house.

My wife, Kathy, and I had new carpet and hard surfaces installed in our home, and we agreed to stop wearing shoes in the house. Kathy bought a floor mat for the front door that says, “Cute shoes. Take them off.” She also bought one for the utility room, where we walk in from the garage, that says, “Mahalo for taking off your slippers.”

I built a shelf under the storage bench in the utility room, and we bought a nice two-shelf bench for the front door. Between those two areas, our bedroom closet, and the collection that seems to gather near the slider to the backyard, we have more shoe storage than two people probably need.

Recently, Kathy asked me if I really needed all the shoes in the utility room.

A Simple Inventory

I took a quick inventory. There was a pair of slip-on casual shoes I had loved, but the soles were worn out. I had already replaced them, so I threw them away. There was also a pair of sandals with detached Velcro that I had not worn for a long time, so they went into the trash too. I considered getting rid of one of my two pairs of flip-flops, then realized I liked having one pair near the back slider and one pair in the utility room, so I kept them both.

This was a simple process. I was just sorting shoes. But there was something useful in it.

When I paused long enough to look honestly at what was there, the decision became easier. Some things still served a purpose. Some things were useful in a specific place. Some things had already been replaced. Some things were worn out. Some things were being kept because I had not yet stopped to notice that their usefulness had passed.

Donna’s situation was much more complex than a few pairs of shoes, but the same basic inquiry applied.

What am I still holding on to, and how is holding on serving me?

The Resentment Donna Was Carrying

As Donna and I continued to talk, we applied this question to the resentment she still felt toward her ex-husband. He had left the marriage years earlier after becoming involved with a younger woman. Donna still felt deeply hurt. She blamed him for the life she was living now. She resented him for the pain she felt when she thought about the future they had once planned together.

They had imagined growing older together. They had imagined retirement together. They had imagined a life that unfolded in a certain way. That life had ended, but Donna was still emotionally tied to it. She was preparing to leave the house, but in many ways she was still living inside the loss.

I asked her gently, “How is holding on to the blame, hurt, and disappointment serving you?”

We sat with that question for a while.

When a Strategy Once Made Sense

Donna began to see that her resentment had served a purpose. It had given her something to hold on to when everything felt unfair and painful. It had given her a way to explain what happened. It had helped her keep the pain pointed outward so she would not have to feel all of the grief at once. It had also tried to protect her from being hurt and disappointed again.

From that perspective, the resentment made sense. It was a strategy. It was a way of saying, “Remember what happened. Be careful. Stay protected.”

As Donna stayed with the question, she also began to see the cost. Keeping the resentment alive had kept her guarded and alone. It had kept her from imagining a different kind of future. It had kept her from considering dating again. It had kept her attention tied to the life that ended, while the life available to her now remained mostly unlived.

When Grief Begins to Move

Before the session ended, Donna began to cry.

She told me it was the first time she had cried like that since the divorce. This time, the tears came with awareness. She was beginning to see what she had been carrying. She was beginning to see why it had made sense to carry it. She was beginning to feel the grief that resentment had helped her hold at a distance.

Something softened as the tears came.

Letting Go of the House and the Resentment

In our next session, I asked Donna how the downsizing was going.

“I put the house on the market,” she told me, “and I’m planning to have a garage sale in a couple of weeks.”

Then she paused and said, “It feels like I’m letting go of the blame, hurt, and resentment every time I cry. And I’m doing a lot of crying.”

She smiled a little.

“Letting go of the house and some of my stuff seems easier now that I don’t have to hang on to my resentment.”

Then she added, “By the way, there will be a lot of shoes and boots in my garage sale if you need any.”

What Recovery Often Reveals

That is often how recovery works. We may begin by noticing the thing in front of us. The house. The relationship. The clutter in the closet. The boxes in the garage. The habit. The pattern. The story we keep repeating. The strategy we keep using because, at some point, it helped us get through something difficult.

As we slow down, we may discover that we are carrying something underneath it. It may be resentment, blame, disappointment, grief, an old role, an old identity, a dream that did not come true, or a story about what should have happened. It may be a strategy that once helped us survive and now keeps us tied to a life that no longer fits.

Letting go can begin with noticing what we are carrying, why it made sense to carry it, how it has served us, and what it is costing us now.

A Gentle Reflection

Take a few minutes to consider something you may still be carrying.

It might be resentment, blame, disappointment, grief, an old role, a relationship that changed, a dream that did not unfold, a protective habit, or a familiar strategy that once helped you get through a painful time.

Ask yourself:

What am I still carrying?

How has carrying this served me?

What has it helped me protect, avoid, explain, or survive?

What has it cost me?

Has it kept me guarded, isolated, unavailable, resentful, exhausted, distracted, or tied to a life that no longer fits?

What might become possible as I begin to see this more clearly?

Give yourself time to notice what is true. Let the answers come at the pace they come. Awareness itself may begin to loosen what has been held for a long time.

And as Donna reminded me, sometimes when we begin letting go of the heavier things, we may also discover a few old shoes we are finally ready to put in the garage sale.