First of all, I want to greet you and thank you for being here. Every time I write a piece, it’s always a surprise to see what I end up sharing with you. That’s simply because I write these pieces for Kata2 completely spontaneously and with full openness. It’s quite vulnerable, because while I never want to offend anyone with what I write, I also realize that this is almost unavoidable. After all, everyone has their own way of thinking and their own opinions, and it’s impossible to always agree with each other. And in my view, that’s perfectly okay.
Along the way, I’ve learned that I can’t please everyone. If I tried, I’d end up going whichever way the wind blows. Quite a shift for a “former” people pleaser. Yes, I’ve learned to let go of old (learned) behavior, and that’s exactly the topic I’d like to take you along with me on: letting go.
Letting go sounds simple, but I found it to be quite difficult. Old behavior, despite often leading to negative consequences, offers a (false) sense of security. I can best explain this with the example of a child growing up with an alcoholic father. As a young person, the child experiences the painful consequences of alcohol abuse, but later in life, she still chooses a partner with similar issues. Why? Because the situation is familiar. She knows how to (survive) in it. As a child, she was powerless, but now she might be able to save her partner—in the hope of finally receiving the love and recognition she missed in her childhood. Sometimes it works, but often it doesn’t. History seems to repeat itself, only now she’s an adult. You’d think: then why doesn’t she do things differently? Unfortunately, in practice, it’s not that simple.
Letting go of old behavior first requires you to look. At the situation. At yourself. It requires you to feel and acknowledge what it has done to you. And that opens old wounds. It brings fear and pain. In short: letting go asks a lot of you. From personal experience, I can say that it was a real challenge. But now, looking back, I often give myself a pat on the back and can even laugh at my own struggles with letting go.
May I take you with me and share a part of my experience?
Letting go is part of life. What had a huge impact on me was the sudden death of my sister. I could say a lot about it, but the essence is: I couldn’t change anything. The unthinkable became reality in a single second. My sister, who was so dear to me, was suddenly gone. That was the first time I truly realized I had no control. I could only let her go—because life had decided so.
Until that moment, I still held on to the illusion of control somewhere inside me. But this loss taught me that control is exactly that—an illusion. I had been forced to let go many times in my life, but this hit hard. Looking back at my need for control, I now see it was mostly fear: fear of letting go of something familiar, fear of loss, fear of the unknown.
Letting go is a recurring theme for me. And in my humble opinion, it’s something everyone will face.
- Letting go of something, someone, or a situation.
- Letting go of a fear, by overcoming it.
- Letting go of a belief, through a new realization.
- Letting go of a loved one, when a relationship ends.
- Letting go of your child, when they move out on their own.
I’m sure you could add to the list yourself.
I’m not an expert, but I’ve had the privilege of experiencing what letting go means. How do I let go? To be honest: I’m still learning. There is no single, clear answer to “how to let go.” Everyone does so at their own pace and in their own way. What helps me is silence. Hours, sometimes days, of silence. In that silence, I reflect on the situation and on myself. I make my world smaller, reduce outside stimuli, and retreat into my own bubble. In that space, I can better feel what’s going on:
- What am I feeling?
- What am I thinking?
- What am I angry about—or why?
- What am I afraid of?
Many questions, many emotions—but also a lot of silence. And in that silence, I often found (and still find) answers. Sometimes not. No answer to the why, what, how, or when. Just silence. Just being. And an indescribable feeling of warmth, as if a safe, familiar blanket has been laid over me.
All of this is a short summary of a long process of trial and error. With help from family, friends, therapists, inspiring books, videos, and speakers. Life has shaped me. No matter how painful some experiences were, I’m grateful. As I write this, I fall silent. Grateful and small. Small, because I know I am just a grain of sand in a much larger whole. A whole that includes you, me, and everything around us—visible and invisible.
I know that life is not a given. That I get to be here with you brings a smile to my face and warmth to my heart. These are the moments when I’m in love with life. Life, with its chaos, challenges, and questions—but also with loving moments like this one.
Where one door closes, a window—or another door—opens.
I hope that through my writing you find inspiration, strength, and support. So that you know you’re not alone. Every moment of letting go creates space for something new.
At LSL, we also create space. Space where you are free to be yourself. To discover, learn, laugh, listen, share, and experience—together. If you don’t yet know what LSL stands for, feel free to take a look at our page.
With love and from the heart, we meet—and we learn from and with each other.
Lain Sajang Lain
Nusa Ina
Letting Go