Living In The Grey

Mel Robbins, a New York Times bestselling author, has written a new book, “The Let Them Theory.” Each chapter gives voice to everyday interactions that often undo us. She writes, ‘You will always come last if you let other people’s emotional immaturity have power over you. Instead of taking on the weight of someone’s disappointment, anger, or guilt, you’ll learn a liberating new approach: Just let them react.‘ I love this book- it is accessible, wise, and profoundly relatable.

The ideas in the book resonate so profoundly. Like many folks I talk with, we navigate two distinct worlds: the overwhelming online social cacophony of information and the complexities arising closer to home.

Starting With Something Further From Home

While mindlessly scrolling Instagram one morning this week, I stumbled across a post that shocked me. Though not a new experience, it landed differently.

It is wild to think that humans have the remarkable capacity to cause grievous harm. Every day, with every choice, we have an innate ability to help others flourish or to tear them to pieces. We carelessly post memes and thoughts without regard for how they might land.

I exercised my choice and unfollowed that account, but it hit me differently—something in me paused, bewildered.

Such a prevalence of vitriol has set a new standard—”freedom of speech” is wielded as a license for cruelty and thoughtlessness. Challenging this “freedom” invites name-calling from strangers, turning disagreement into hostility.

To those who feel the urge to rush to say, “You’re too sensitive,” I invite you to consider this: When you say it to someone else, you are also saying it to me. If that makes me a woke, liberal, social justice-supporting sheep who must have fallen from grace, I welcome you to use that “unfollow” toggle. It works.

Online interactions are easier fields to practice the principles in Mel Robbins’ book. I don’t have to look anyone in the eye, sit across the table eating dinner, or experience relationship tension when I remove someone from my online feed. It makes sense that it is easier in those spaces.

A Family Affair

Later that same day, though, I witnessed an interaction at a family social gathering that left me prickling. The tingling unease crept down my skin, whispering, “You have to say something about this.” Right here, the stakes feel different—more formidable and risky when it comes to “taking back my power.”

If you are considering the “Let Them Theory” and feel the horror of what may come if you “try it,” know that you are not alone! On one hand, the idea is entirely liberating. On the other hand, putting it into practice might be fraught with sleepless nights, hesitation, and sometimes unresolved tension.

I will break my process down, starting with what I know: I do not have to say anything.

I unequivocally can refuse to respond to this situation in the family for so many excellent reasons. One is- I am a parent of four adults. Some have partners and children. Secondly, all of them should be capable of making adult decisions. But this niggling on the inside comes with another thought: “You are still the parent.”

Well frig-me. Yes, I am. This line blurs as kids start paying taxes, mortgages, and phone bills. There are still some perks to the family plans- everyone drinks from the source well for Netflix and Disney accounts. If you know, you know! But it doesn’t change that I am the mother.

Grappling with my desire to “Let Them React” and say what I wanted to say didn’t feel as straightforward. I existed in a state of interrupted sleep the entire night, with the monstrous thoughts of “what should I do” floating without any hope of being able to “reign them in.”

A caterwauling of questions, concerns, and scenarios filled my mind. I cannot “unfollow” these folks. They are my people.

In the morning, the harried face I found in the mirror looked back sheepishly and sighed. Exhausted, I picked up Mel’s book again, hoping for some little nugget to appease myself for the next night’s interruption.

Here is the piece that stood out:

‘When you say Let Them, you give other people the space to feel their emotions without needing to fix them. When you say Let Me, you do what’s right for you, even if it upsets someone, which is how you take responsibility for your life. It’s time to stop being manipulated by someone else’s guilt, anger, or disappointment. Other people’s emotional reactions are not your responsibility to manage.‘

That’s a good word!

It resonates so true. I get this rush of affirmation deep in my core. I feel buoyed and excited to try this, but then, just as quickly, I stutter.

Why is it so hard?

It’s hard because the reactions I try to avoid have happened before. They tend to look more like the “f-me” variety than the triumph of Queen Elsa’s “Let it go!”

I have yet to do the thing, have the tough conversation, or establish a clear boundary and feel brave and blissfully at peace. I get jittery with both elation and angst about what will happen now. So, how do we (I) take the risk and endure the fallout after we “let them react?” I see these struggles daily—in myself, in my clients, and with friends and family.

As a therapist, I often discuss the challenge of setting boundaries. We discuss the emotional health benefits of firm yeses and firm noes, but the truth is that boundary setting is some of the most challenging work.

We’re all on a journey, and it’s okay to find it difficult.

We don’t suddenly decide overnight to do something different—avoid confrontation, stop people-pleasing, or practice our no. We have slowly adapted and grown into this way of responding to the world, so we will certainly need time to learn a new way of existing in it.

“Oh, Cheryl, she is such a people-pleaser, “Janice, always avoiding the hard conversations,” or “Deb cancelled again. She says yes, and then she backs out every single time.”

Does this sound familiar? People describe us and know us based on how we always react. If our responses are so deeply rooted in how we are known, have some self-compassion that expressing updated, more desirable versions of your emotional software will take some practice.

So boundaries on paper are good.
Not reacting to the emotions of others is also good.
Letting your kids endure all the consequences of their decisions (even when you are pretty sure it will be a train wreck) sounds good on paper.

Doing any one of those things is so freaking hard!

Sometimes, you have to do the emotional work connected to the reason behind your actions before you really find your footing to try a new thing.