The Art Of Letting Go
Written by Charlie Rowe
Letting go is often one of the hardest things we face in life, especially when it comes to something that once held deep meaning or value. Whether it's a relationship, a job, a living situation, or even a personal belief, there comes a time when we need to recognize that holding on may be doing more harm than good not only to ourselves, but the people we hold closest to us. Within the context of wellness, understanding when to release what no longer serves us is crucial for our growth, peace, and overall well-being. It's about creating space for new opportunities, perspectives, and energies that better align with who we are now and where we want to go, rather than holding on to what we once knew.
This year in my personal life, letting go has seemed to be an overarching theme, as I have seen it in others as well. My friends and I have all had our fair share of having to say goodbye to friendships, relationships, and even societal ideas. One of the biggest things I’ve had to let go is my beautiful first apartment I obtained on my own. I loved the space, the beautiful natural sunlight, and made it a place that wasn’t just livable, but loved and cherished. I felt like I was just getting used to the flow of my neighborhood, found my favorite food spots, and was ready to explore my area more than I already had when my living arrangement was upended and I had to make the decision to stay, or go somewhere new.
At first, the choice was obvious. I was going to stay, I’d be remiss not to for all the reasons stated above. My cats were comfortable, I was happy, why leave? But the more I thought about it, the more it seemed in my interest to find a new place by myself. I had a roommate who I’d known and trusted, but if I were to stay in the apartment I’d have to find a new roommate, one who may not understand my cat’s needs, as well as how I take care of my cats. My cats were my biggest concern, as they are my babies and I just want to give them the best living situation and life that I can. The idea of having to trust someone new to care for and love my cats like I do was scary and a big ask on either end. Obviously, I was also thinking of myself, and even though I loved my apartment, I was leaning towards wanting a fresh start free from the experiences and situations I lived through in my time at the apartment.
As I started to ruminate on what I wanted to do, I decided to change my perspective of leaving. I was so focused on leaving something I loved that I only saw the negatives, and not the good things that could come from a new change. If I moved somewhere new, in an apartment by myself, I had a new area to explore. I could find new go-to food places, explore new parks, and create another place to call home. Going from living with someone to just living with my cats was also an inviting idea, as I had full control of the space and what I could do with it.
After deciding moving out was the best option for me, I quickly found an apartment that perfectly suited my needs and budget. It felt like everything fell right into place at the exact time I needed it to, like dominos cascading in the perfect line. It felt like a sign from the universe that I made the right decision to leave, to grow in a new space. I am now a couple weeks into settling into my new apartment, and even though I miss my old place immensely, I am excited at the premise of new beginnings on a fresh canvas that I control the colors of.
This year, I also had to decide to let go of something that was not fully serving me, and almost seemed like it was killing me the longer I stayed, my job. I was with my last company for four years, and I have seen many ups and downs as you’d expect, but I didn’t expect for it to take a turn in the last year and not only affect my mood even when I wasn’t at work, but also increase my anxiety both on and off the clock. My friendships never lacked, but I did find myself going out less as my job was making me more tired and not as willing to be sociable as I once was. My job wore me down to a point where I just didn’t want to do things like I used to, and I stayed in more than I wanted. I recognized this in me even in those moments, but I felt like I couldn’t change it so long as I stayed at my job.
Leaving a job that was wreaking havoc on my mental health was both one of the hardest and most liberating decisions I've ever made. For the better part of a year, I found myself constantly drained, overwhelmed, and questioning my own worth. No matter how many times I had friends and family encouraging me, saying I wasn’t the problem, it just did not seem true. The pressure was relentless, and no matter how hard I worked, it never seemed to be enough. It wasn’t just about the workload or the stress—it was about how it all chipped away at my sense of self. Realizing that this job was more than just a bad day here and there, but a persistent source of unhappiness, was a painful but necessary awakening.
I had stayed on with my job a lot longer than I should have, and part of that was the security that the job had given me, but I was also scared. For so long, this job provided a sense of financial relief. It was full time, benefits, and there was little reason to believe I’d ever be fired or let go. It enabled me to provide for myself like other jobs and opportunities hadn’t. I was also comfortable with the company, and knew that most of the higher ups not only appreciated me, but recognized all my hard work. It was a safety net in an unsure job and financial market, and I felt like it would be crass to walk away from that, even if it cost me my mental and physical health. When I started to ponder if I should leave, I listened to a song by Taylor Swift appropriately titled “it’s time to go” (listen here). When I heard the post-chorus lyrics “Sometimes, givin' up is the strong thing / Sometimes, to run is the brave thing / Sometimes, walkin' out is the one thing / That will find you the right thing” and my body riddled with goosebumps, I knew what I had to do.
Once I finally decided to walk away, a huge weight lifted off my shoulders. There was an immediate sense of relief, knowing I no longer had to face that daily strain. But that relief still was mixed with a fair amount of anxiety about what came next, and during my final two weeks I felt myself wondering over and over if I had made the correct decision. Yet, prioritizing my mental health and stepping away from such a toxic environment felt like reclaiming a part of myself I’d almost lost. It opened up space for healing and gave me hope that I could find new environments that would respect and nurture my well-being. It allowed me to focus more on grad school, which lacked attention in my first year due to the demands of the job. I now can focus not only on school, but also in my leadership position within my program, which I’m excited to dive deeper into. I also found many opportunities sprung upon me almost immediately after I turned in my resignation letter, which felt like a sign from above that I had made the right decision at the exact time I needed to. Again, another moment where everything seemed to fall into place.
Trusting yourself to let go and leave a bad, or good, situation requires a deep sense of self-awareness and courage. Often, we find ourselves stuck, clinging to familiarity out of fear or uncertainty about what lies ahead. But there's a subtle wisdom within each of us that knows when something is no longer right. This inner voice, often quieted by doubt or external pressures, is our most reliable guide. Learning to listen to it means acknowledging your own needs, boundaries, and values. It's about recognizing that you deserve more than just survival-you deserve to thrive. Trusting yourself means believing that by letting go, you are making room for something better, even if it's unclear what that might be. If you consistently hear even the tiniest voice in the back of your head telling you that it’s time to go, take a deep breath and listen to it, because it’s leading you to exactly where you need to be.
Be Well,
Charlie Rowe
