There’s a little something we all know as “letting go.” It’s been talked about so much, it’s practically become a required life skill. You’ve heard it before: you’ve got to know when to let go; let go of emotions, situations, ideas. On the surface, it seems simple, a handy trick for dealing with all the things beyond our control.
When it comes to love, there are many ways in which you can let go. You can let go of a petty argument in the name of compromise, let go of past mistakes to focus on the future, or even let go of who you thought someone was to accept them as they truly are. Sounds easy enough, right?
Except, what happens when what you need to let go of isn’t a “what,” but a “who”? And more importantly, what do you do when that “who” is the person you love? Just like that, I couldn’t help but wonder: is “letting go” really the fix-it-all tool we’ve been led to believe it is?
In today’s love, the idea of letting go lingers behind relationships, quietly shadowing the corners, reminding us to release what isn’t meant for us. But the thing is, unless you notice it, this uninvited guest is easy to ignore. Once it steps into the light, though, it’s a telltale sign that something isn’t quite right. The truth is, sometimes, for reasons we can’t explain, love alone is not enough to make a relationship work. When that happens, there are usually three reasons why we let someone go.
First, there’s the classic: “If you love someone, set them free.” We’ve all heard it. This kind of letting go comes when you realize you aren’t the right person for your partner. You love them enough to walk away so they can find the person who is. This approach is often criticized because, if you love someone, wouldn’t you stay and become the right person for them?Â
Then, there’s the other side of the coin—”putting yourself first”. You let go because it’s the best choice for you. You leave because you need a different kind of love than what is being offered. Maybe your partner has hurt you, maybe their love no longer fits who you’re becoming, or maybe you’re just ready to grow on your own. No matter the reason, prioritizing your well-being is often an act of self-love, even if it feels like you’re turning against yourself.
Finally, there’s the third reason: letting go because it’s what’s best for both of you. This kind of letting go is mutual—or sometimes, it’s one person realizing it’s mutual, while the other person holds on. It is perhaps the hardest form of departure because it’s not just one of you who’s been let down by love—it’s both. While this may come with a promise that in the future, after personal growth, you may find your way back to each other, you also know the “us” you once were has been forever changed.
Walking away while there’s still love involved is an incredibly difficult choice to make. You are placing reason above emotion, head over heart. There’s no way around it—it’s going to hurt. There will be that pit in your stomach, that desperate urge to distract yourself from the emptiness they left behind.
But here’s the thing: feel it all. The pain, the doubt, the lingering hope. Only when you confront that wound can it begin to heal.
Contrary to what some might think, letting go doesn’t mean your love has disappeared. It’s still there, hanging on, making you wonder what to do with the love you still feel, the love you so desperately want to continue expressing. But even then, leaving someone while you still love them means trusting yourself and your decisions despite the pain they bear.
So, maybe we can let go of someone we love if, in that moment, in this lifetime, leaving was the right choice. Maybe it’s not about releasing people at all—it’s about letting go of versions. Versions of who we were, of who they were, of what we thought our love was supposed to be.
Maybe, just maybe, letting go is about accepting that we couldn’t hold onto what once was and embracing what is.