
A gentle, grounded space to release what no longer serves you
Letting go isn’t something we’re really taught, at least not in a way that feels kind, honest or safe. Most of us were shown how to grip tightly. To hold on and to be strong, to push through, stay attached… to stay the same. But real strength often lives in our ability to soften and to release something, even when it still matters to us.
This page isn’t about quick fixes or forced positivity. It’s about understanding why letting go can be so hard and why it’s also a part of healing. Sometimes we’re holding on to a relationship, other times it’s a version of ourselves, a dream that no longer fits, a belief we picked up without even realising. Sometimes we’re carrying emotions from years ago that still live in the body, or guilt, or the pressure to stay the same when something inside us is quietly begging us to change.
This page was born out of things I have had to let go of myself. I’ve held on for too long before, to people I loved, stories about who I had to be, expectations and fears that were installed by limiting beliefs I surrounded myself with. I want to be clear that letting go didn’t happen all at once. It happened in layers. In stillness. In unexpected moments of clarity and even grief and sometimes, in relief.
Here, you’ll find a guide that blends science and soul. We’ll explore the psychology behind holding on, the neuroscience of identity, the energetics of release and the deep humanity of learning to loosen your grip gently, at your own pace. Letting go isn’t about erasing what mattered. It’s about allowing what’s here now. You don’t have to do it perfectly. You just have to feel ready to begin.

Letting go is the moment you choose truth over hope, self-respect over staying small and peace over illusion.
Each Layer We’ll Unfold
- Section 1: Why Letting Go Is So Hard
- Understand the science and psychology of holding on, from attachment and identity to trauma and reward pathways
- Section 2: Letting Go of Limiting Beliefs
- Break free from inherited narratives, fear loops and internal rules that no longer reflect who you are
- Section 3: Letting Go of Relationships
- Support for releasing people you’ve loved or leaned on even when it still hurts or feels unfinished
- Section 4: Letting Go of the Past You
- Explore identity, self-concept and how to shift when you’ve outgrown who you used to be
- Section 5: The Weight You Didn’t Know You Were Carrying
- Uncover the grief, stored tension and emotional loops your body still holds even when your mind says you’ve let go
- Section 6: Letting Go Energetically and Spiritually
- Release emotionally or energetically using ritual, breath and grounding practices rooted in science and tradition
- Section 7: When Letting Go Means Integration
- Discover when the work isn’t in leaving something behind but in meeting it with compassion and carrying it differently
1. Why Letting Go Is So Hard
Letting go isn’t just emotional, it’s neurological, psychological and sometimes even physical. Our minds are wired to cling to what is familiar to us, even when it hurts. If you’ve ever felt like you ‘should‘ be over something by now, but it still lingers you’re not broken, you’re human.
Attachment theory explains this clearly. According to psychologist John Bowlby, we form emotional bonds very early in our life to ensure survival and those patterns often carry into adulthood. That’s why we may hold on to people who aren’t good for us or struggle to walk away from relationships that feel unsafe but familiar. The brain associates connection with safety, even if that connection is no longer healthy.
There is also the brain’s reward system to consider. When we anticipate love, resolution or validation (even if it’s inconsistently), our brain releases dopamine (the feel-good chemical). That anticipation loop can keep us stuck, returning to people or patterns with the hope that this time it’ll be different. The uncertainty becomes addictive. It’s not just about connection it’s about the chase for relief.
Then there is also cognitive dissonance which is that mental discomfort we feel when our actions and beliefs don’t match. If we’ve invested time, energy or identity into someone or something, walking away can feel like failure. It challenges the story we’ve told ourselves. We think: But I tried so hard… doesn’t that mean it’s worth saving? Welcome to the sunk cost fallacy, the belief that the more we’ve given to something, the more we should keep going, even if continuing is costing us more than we can afford emotionally and physically.
Last but not least… our bodies remember everything. Trauma and emotional pain are often stored somatically in our muscles, breath, posture and nervous system. Letting go isn’t just about changing your mind. It can involve gently releasing the tension you’ve held for years, perhaps without even realising it. That’s why grief can show up as exhaustion, tightness in the chest or a racing heart when you’re trying to move on.
Thought prompt for you:
What am I afraid will happen if I let go?

2: Letting Go of Limiting Beliefs
Limiting beliefs are the quiet rules that shape how we move through the world. They sound like: “I’m too much,” “I’m not ready,” or “People like me don’t get that.” They’re not always dramatic. Often they’re subtle patterns we’ve repeated for so long that they start to feel like facts.
Most limiting beliefs are formed in childhood or early adulthood when the brain is still building its understanding of safety and identity. The way someone looked at you, the words you weren’t ready to hear, the praise you never got. These moments can plant beliefs that your adult self now lives by without realising.
According to schema theory in psychology, we build mental frameworks based on early experiences. These become the stories we rely on to navigate life and because the brain wants to be right, it tends to seek proof of those stories again and again. This is called confirmation bias. If you believe you are too emotional, you will likely only notice the times someone shut you down. If you believe success isn’t for you, you’ll shrink away before giving yourself a fair chance.
Letting go of these beliefs doesn’t mean pretending they were never there. It means beginning to question whether they still deserve to lead your life.
Why we keep them:
- They give structure, even when they hurt.
- They feel familiar, which can feel safer than the unknown.
- They help us avoid risk by keeping expectations low.
- Sometimes they serve an identity we’ve clung to for comfort or protection.
My experience with limiting beliefs
For a long time, I believed life had to be approached with caution, that big dreams were unrealistic. That trying meant risking failure and disappointment, that it was safer not to expect too much. I didn’t realise those beliefs weren’t mine. They were passed on from adults who had been hurt or let down and were trying to protect me in the only way they knew how.
Somewhere along the way, I started carrying the idea that the bold dreams we have as children are naïve, that success only belongs to a few and that life is more about avoiding regret than chasing meaning. But quietly, something in me still wanted and needed more, more purpose, more passion and more fulfillment.
Making this website and choosing to create, share and speak in my own voice was one of the small ways I began to break that belief. I’ve realised that just because something didn’t work out for someone else, doesn’t mean it can’t for me and just because fear was passed on to me doesn’t mean I have to keep living in it.
We all deserve to try. Not just succeed but to atleast try. That’s part of being human. And every time I take even a small step forward, it rewrites something old in me. Slowly, but honestly.

Try this sentence:
- “I used to believe ________. I’m now learning that _______.”
- This is not about forcing positivity. It’s about loosening your grip on the story that’s been keeping you stagnant.
“In a study of 1,381 college students, those with higher self-efficacy were significantly more likely to explore careers, adapt to challenges, and report greater well‑being—showing that believing in your own potential doesn’t just feel better, it leads to action.”
— Nature Scientific Reports research
3: Letting Go Of Relationships
Letting go of relationships isn’t just about breakups. It can mean releasing someone who isn’t fully present, outgrowing a friendship, or accepting that the version of someone you loved no longer exists. It is not an easy process as love and connection can still live in the body long after the story has ended.

Psychologically, we’re wired for connection. Attachment theory (Bowlby, 1969) explains that when we bond with someone especially through vulnerability, shared experiences or emotional reliance those bonds don’t easily dissolve. They live in neural pathways, in memory and in the body. This is why even when you know someone isn’t good for you, your nervous system can still long for them.
And then there’s grief. Grieving someone still alive is one of the most complicated forms of loss. You don’t just lose the person, you lose the future you imagined, the rituals you built and the hope for more. People can only meet you from the level of awareness, honesty, healing and capacity they’re currently living in and if that place keeps wounding you, it’s not unkind to choose yourself. It is necessary.
Tools for Letting Go with Grace:
1. Write a letter you don’t send
Say everything. The truth, the ache, the hope, the goodbye. Then burn it, bury it or tuck it away. This ritual gives your nervous system closure it may not receive from them.
2. Feel the grief fully
Grief needs space, not fixing. Let it move through you in waves. Cry. Write. Sit with the silence. The pain doesn’t mean you’re broken it means you cared.
3. Reclaim the energy
Make a list of what you gave in the relationship. Time, care, creativity, softness. Then ask yourself: how can I offer those things to myself now?
4. Break the illusion of “onlyness”
The mind often convinces us they were “the one.” But what we felt is often a mirror of what we’re capable of feeling again with someone who meets us where we are.
5. Anchor into self-trust
Letting go is an act of trust. Trust that you will not always feel this way. Trust that you will find connection again. Trust that love does not run out.

4.Letting Go Of The Past You
There is a subtle kind of uncomfortability that often goes unnoticed, the grief that arises when we realise we are no longer the person we used to be. It doesn’t always come with big changes or defining moments, sometimes it appears when you speak your truth and notice it used to scare you, or when you no longer feel drawn to what once made you feel safe. It is in those subtle shifts that we often feel the ache of shedding something old, even if we are better off now.
From a psychological perspective, this experience relates to something called identity coherence, which is the brain’s natural drive to hold onto a consistent sense of self over time. When we evolve, even in healthy and empowering ways, it can still feel disorienting because the narrative we built around who we are begins to shift.
You do not have to hate the person you were in order to grow into the person you’re becoming. You can hold love for them and still choose to move forward.
From me:
There was a time when I didn’t quite know where I fit and instead of trusting my presence, I kept trying to justify it. I often felt like I had to earn space by being useful, by supporting others, by carrying more than what was ever mine to hold. I took on people’s wounds without even noticing, convinced myself that if I could help fix their pain, maybe I would finally feel enough. I poured energy and time into problem solving and over analysing everything, not realising that boundaries were not walls but invitations to meet myself too.
But I see it differently now. I understand where it came from, the urge to be useful, the fear of being unseen, the drive to prove I could contribute something of value. I don’t reject those instincts, but I no longer let them run the show. I’ve learned that you don’t need to overextend yourself to be meaningful and that sometimes, walking away from what drains you is the most generous act of self-respect. I still love deeply, I still care, but I’ve stopped losing myself in the process.
Tools for gently releasing old versions of yourself:
1. Write a letter between timelines
One of the most healing things you can do is write to the version of yourself you’re letting go of, or let them write to you. This opens up space for clarity and self-compassion and it helps your mind register that something has shifted.
2. Mark the transition with something tangible
You don’t need a dramatic moment to acknowledge change. You could plant a seed, archive an old playlist, burn a page from an old journal or rearrange your space. The body often responds to symbolism in ways that language alone cannot achieve.
3. Speak about yourself with more softness
Instead of repeating fixed stories like “I’ve always been like this” or “this is just who I am,” try saying “this was true for me once” or “there was a time when I believed that.” It opens a window for self-compassion and reminds you that you are allowed to evolve.
4. Recognise the wisdom behind your coping
If you once avoided conflict, overgave or tried to be perfect, it doesn’t mean you were broken. It means you were trying to stay safe with the resources you had at the time. You can thank those patterns without letting them continue to lead you.
5. Shift regret into reflection
It is easy to look back and feel regret. But what if you could honour those choices as part of the journey that shaped you? Growth doesn’t come from getting it right all the time. It comes from being willing to reflect, to feel and to shift with grace.
5: The Weight You Didn’t Know You Were Carrying
Sometimes we think we’ve let something go because we’ve stopped talking about it or we’ve chosen not to revisit the memories. But beneath the surface, in our breath, posture, tone, reactions or silence, it can still be there held in the tissues and rhythms of our body, shaping how we respond to life without us even realising. You might not think of it as grief or emotional residue, but it can show up as tension in your chest, anxiety, a sense of dread in your gut when in a similar situation or the way your shoulders lift when someone raises their voice.
This experience is deeply rooted in how the body stores emotional memory. Neuroscience and trauma research have shown that our nervous system does not differentiate between emotional pain and physical threat when it is overwhelmed. If something hurt us, especially over time or when we felt powerless, our body learned to adapt, and those adaptations can linger even when our conscious mind believes we are done with the situation. You might no longer be in contact with the person, it may be years since the experience, you might have moved cities or jobs or routines, but if your body hasn’t had a chance to fully release what it was holding, it will find ways to express that weight until you meet it with care.
This doesn’t mean there is something wrong with you. It means you are human, and that your body is honest. Often more honest than your mind is ready to be.
Ask yourself: What parts of my body always feel tight, heavy or restless? What might those sensations be trying to say that I haven’t yet acknowledged?

Just because you’ve moved on in your mind doesn’t mean your body has.
Tools for meeting what still lives in the body:
1. Body scan journaling
Sit quietly and scan your body from head to toe. Write down where you feel tension, heat, heaviness or stillness. Instead of analysing it, ask it what it needs. Let the body speak first.
2. Gentle somatic release
Try shaking out your limbs, stretching intuitively, rolling your shoulders or exhaling slowly with sound. These small movements can signal safety to your nervous system and help shift stuck energy.
3. Name what was never validated
Sometimes what keeps pain stuck is that it was never named. You don’t need to justify how something affected you. You just need to say, “That hurt,” and mean it.
4. Create a ritual of release
Write down what feels heavy and read it out loud to yourself. Burn it safely, or tear it up and throw it into water. Mark the fact that you are allowed to let it leave.
5. Offer your body what it was denied
If you were silenced, sing. If you were controlled, move freely. If you were always on edge, take five minutes to rest without guilt. This is how we start to rewire safety from the inside.

6: Letting Go Energetically and Spiritually
Letting go doesn’t always happen through insight. You can understand something completely in your mind and still feel it sitting in your body. In some cases, letting go isn’t about thinking your way out. It’s about creating the conditions for your body and energy to finally release what no longer belongs there.
Spiritual and energetic practices offer a language for healing that we don’t always access through thought alone. Research has shown that tools like breathwork, grounding and gentle movement can support the nervous system, improve heart rate variability, and help regulate the body’s natural stress responses. These are not abstract shifts — they are real, physical changes that create space for deeper safety and clarity to return.
You don’t need to be religious or “spiritual enough” to explore these tools. All you need is a willingness to connect with yourself more deeply. Letting go energetically isn’t about erasing the past. It’s about returning to the present, where your power lives.
Tools for energetic and spiritual release:
1. Grounding through the senses
Press your feet to the earth, hold something cold or textured in your hand, or listen to one sound at a time. Bringing your awareness to the present reminds your body that it is safe here and now.
2. Breath as a reset
Try the 4-7-8 method or simple rhythmic breathing. Inhale for four counts, hold for seven, exhale for eight. This helps regulate the nervous system and bring down emotional activation stored in the body.
3. Cord-cutting visualisation
Close your eyes and imagine any lingering energy ties between you and someone else. Visualise gently unhooking them and returning your energy to yourself. You don’t need to force anything. Just the intention can help shift what’s been stuck.
4. Create a personal ritual
Light a candle with a clear intention. Wash your hands with the thought of release. Burn herbs or write and bury something. It doesn’t need to be elaborate. It only needs to be true to you.
5. Place your hand over your heart
This simple action, especially when combined with breath, activates oxytocin and calms the stress response. It reminds your system that you are safe within yourself and that you are not abandoned just because something is ending.

7. When Letting Go Means Integration
Sometimes, the idea of letting go creates pressure to forget or cut off, to discard the past in order to move forward. But healing doesn’t always mean walking away. In many cases, real release comes not from erasing what happened, but from changing the relationship we have to it. This is where integration begins… not pushing away the pain, but learning how to hold it with more softness and less fear.
Neuroscience tells us that unprocessed experiences often continue to trigger stress responses in the brain long after the event is over. But when we bring mindful awareness and compassion to those memories through journaling, therapy, bodywork, or simple presence we activate parts of the brain involved in regulation, like the medial prefrontal cortex and the anterior cingulate. This allows the emotional charge to settle. The experience doesn’t disappear, but it becomes part of a wider story, one where you are no longer stuck in it, but shaped by it in a way that honours your growth.
Integration is about making peace with what has shaped you, without letting it define you. It means letting your past be part of your truth without being the whole of it. Sometimes this looks like revisiting an old version of yourself with kindness. Sometimes it means forgiving someone who may never say sorry. And sometimes, it’s just allowing the memory to exist without it holding power over how you live now.
What part of my story do I still carry with tension? What would it feel like to carry it with compassion instead?

If you’ve made it this far, I want you to know that you’re not alone. I don’t have all the answers, but I know that healing doesn’t mean you never look back. It means you can look back without losing yourself. It means you can walk forward, even slowly, even shakily, with more light in your hands than what you’re leaving behind. That is enough… And so are you.
