What Happens When You Don't Let Go
Why we stay too long, what it costs us, and how to finally choose freedom.
The truth is, holding on too long doesn’t protect us — it poisons us.
We like to tell ourselves that clinging is safe. That if we grip tighter to the relationship, the identity, the habit, the storyline, we’ll somehow be spared the freefall. But the longer we hold, the heavier it becomes — until all that energy meant for growth is spent on keeping something alive that’s already gone.
And maybe it’s no accident that these truths are surfacing now. September always carries a shift, but this one feels heavier. We’re in the thick of eclipse season — a cosmic portal that, whether you’re into astrology or not, is about endings and beginnings. Releasing blocks. Shedding old skins. Making space for the life that’s calling.
I know intimately what happens when you don’t let go. In 2017, I entered a relationship that was intoxicating in the beginning. It was fueled with all the textbook themes — love bombing, trauma bonding, insane chemistry. What I thought was deep intimacy and connection was actually manipulation, betrayal, and gaslighting. And even though my soul knew something was wrong, I couldn’t walk away. For four years, I stayed stuck in the cycle of leaving and returning, unable to cut the cord.
The cost? My self-trust. My moral compass. My voice. I lost myself. I got so far away from who I once was, and even further from my best self. My nervous system was shot, my body weak and unsettled. At times it felt like life or death. And the breaking point only came when I had undeniable evidence of infidelity and — with the help of a whole village around me — finally walked away.
That’s what clinging does. It drains the very life out of us. When we don’t let go, we get further and further away from ourselves. We’re not at home in our own bodies. Anxiety, doubt, insecurity — they move in and take up residence. Resentment brews beneath the surface. Days become exhausting. For me, it showed up in the fixation that I wasn’t enough — not pretty enough, not alluring enough, not whole enough to hold someone’s attention. None of it was true, but when you’re gripping too tightly, you lose clarity. You can’t see straight.
And I see this everywhere. People holding onto routines that deplete them, distractions that numb them, jobs or relationships that keep them small. We cling because it’s familiar. We cling because chaos feels like comfort. We cling because control tricks us into believing we’re safe. But all it does is chain us to an old way of being. And most of us don’t want that. We want freedom, peace, and joy — not the quick hit of joy from a sexy DM or a big purchase, but the liberation that comes when you finally live in truth.
But here’s the thing. The real danger of gripping too tightly is that it becomes an act of self-betrayal. Our intuition always knows when something is breaking us. That’s why we feel tension in our bodies, why our nervous systems flare, why that little inner voice won’t shut up. Ignoring it is a kind of deceit, and not the kind someone else imposes — the kind we inflict on ourselves. And that is the deepest cut of all.
For me, the cost wasn’t only measured in my own body and mind — it was time. Four years of my life that my children also witnessed. Though I protected them as best I could, ultimately they still saw their mother’s heart breaking. They still felt the drama that bled through. And let met tell you - that is a sobering truth I still think about sometimes today. I wish I had modeled something different sooner. But I can’t condemn myself for what I didn’t yet know. I didn’t have the tools then that I do now. What I can do is share the wisdom that came from it: when you stay in what is breaking you, you not only betray yourself, you rob the people who love you of your fullest self.
So let me turn this to you. What are you gripping so tightly that it’s cutting off your circulation? What is the pesky voice in your head that won’t go away? Why aren’t you listening to it? Why do you swallow it down?
If the question keeps reappearing, there’s a reason.
For me recently, that question was about alcohol. And in my last essay, I told you the truth: I stopped reaching for it. That’s another perfect example of letting go. For years, I interrogated my relationship with alcohol. I tried to be intentional, I tried to moderate, I asked myself why I wouldn’t just set it down altogether. Deep down I knew it was the one thing still holding me back. I knew that if I let it go, I could blossom into an even freer, stronger version of myself. And when I finally got radically honest, meditated, journaled, and asked God for help — the craving dissolved. Completely.
That’s what happens on the other side of release. The unknown is scary, yes. But the rewards — peace, lightness, freedom — they’re waiting.
This September eclipse season is the invitation. Eclipses, by nature, are about sudden shifts and necessary endings — they illuminate what’s been hidden and ask us to release what we’ve outgrown. You don’t have to “believe” in astrology to feel it; the energy of this time is about clearing blocks, dissolving old patterns, and stepping into alignment with what’s next.
So the question becomes: will you keep dragging the dead weight, replaying the same old patterns? Or will you loosen your grip, trust the fall, and step into the new reality that’s waiting? I’d love to hear your own story in the comments. You’re not alone and this space affirms just that.
With love from the ranch,
Catt
This was beautiful, wise words we all need to hear. I especially loved having the audio with it!
Thank you for sharing! I didn’t realize how much I needed to read this! I’ve got several relationships, and I’m saying that loosely, that I need to let go of. And have been for quite some time.