The Power of Letting Go

Letting go can transform you into an unstoppable force. I know this because I let go of a relationship and reclaimed my life. And I believe that letting go has the power to bring about profound change for each and every one of you. Let me share my story.

At 41, the end of a relationship taught me the art of releasing what no longer served me. Until then, I lived day by day, much like a carefree dog—chasing balls, scavenging for whatever life threw my way. And life was good. I had a great job, wonderful friends, a fantastic apartment, an actual dog, and a boyfriend—Hector, sort of.

Hector lacked commitment, and after 12 years, we still didn't live together or plan a future. He danced around the idea of marriage, giving me fleeting moments of hope amid a stagnant situation that had become my norm. Don't get me wrong; I stayed because Hector was handsome, smart, reliable, and caring. Our relationship, while flawed, functioned in theory. Until a wake-up call from a friend altered everything.

A realtor friend informed me about a condo for sale in my Chicago neighborhood, hoping it might spur Hector into action. Initially hesitant, my first instinct was to say, "We're not ready. Not yet." "Not yet" was Hector's favorite phrase. Whenever I mentioned marriage or living together, his response was always, "Not yet." Like a persistent itch or an irritating song stuck in my head, "not yet" echoed endlessly.

Imagine my surprise when Hector agreed to meet me at the condo at noon. Eager and early, I waited. But Hector? That was another story. 12:15 passed, then 12:30, 12:45, 1:00 pm—no Hector. Eventually, he called with an excuse. We rescheduled for 3:00 pm, yet Hector didn't show up again. In that moment, after 12 years, I decided it was time to let go.

I had to release Hector and the illusion of marrying him—or anyone. At 41, my prospects seemed daunting. Should I stay with a man unwilling to commit but good on holidays and birthdays? Or should I embrace being alone? Letting go of a man I loved deeply wasn't easy. I faced the aftermath of my epiphany—the pain.

"You and Hector won't be together forever. You won't be his person. He'll move on quickly, marry someone else, and she'll be his person. And you'll have to live with the regret." I ugly cried, devoured pizza, and drowned in Joni Mitchell's songs. But when tears blurred my vision and imagining Hector with another woman in a size-6 dress became unbearable, I picked myself up.

I relinquished fears of growing old alone, friends using me as a cautionary tale, or believing it was too late for me. Instead, I faced what I truly desired—more. Hector's absence on that day was a gift; it granted me freedom from chasing a ball for 12 years. It was time to move forward, risking rejection.

I devised a plan, gaining clarity with each step. Hector offered excuses for his absence, but by then, it didn't matter. I ended things with him, quit my job, embraced my friends, and sold my beautiful condo in Chicago—the same neighborhood where I had my epiphany. I let go of everything to begin anew in New Hope, Pennsylvania.

Hector pleaded, "Don't go; we'll get married." I replied, "You had twelve years." He insisted, "I'll come visit." I answered, "Not yet." Was it difficult? Absolutely. Was it worth it? Within a year of leaving Chicago, I met my husband Dan online.

I knew he was the one when, on our first date, he appeared in the most wrinkled shirt I had ever seen, wearing a rain hat to shield me from the rain. Umbrellas create distance; they flip in heavy winds and only last so long. But a rain hat, tied under your chin—that's personal.

After four dates, love blossomed. I finally understood why waiting had been necessary. Dan was handsome, wise, soulful, kind—he made me believe in limitless possibilities. We married a year later.

At 50, Hector passed away from cancer. I mourned deeply, reaffirming the promise I made to myself at 41: never take time for granted. Instead, use it to let go, make space for what truly matters. Here are five effective ways to let go, which I still use daily:

1. Let go of taking things personally—understand that people's actions often reflect their own issues, not yours.

2. Let go of caring about what others think—focus on those who support you, not those who criticize.

3. Let go of trying to be something you're not—embrace your authentic self, quirks and all.

4. Let go of the need for perfection—life is messy; embrace imperfections and learn from them.

5. Let go of "Not yet"—act on your desires now; waiting may mean missing out.

I still grieve for Hector in waves, but it reminds me to cherish every moment. I urge you all to do the same. Pursue whatever bring you joy and fulfillment—let go and seize it. Thank you.