WHAT IT MEANS TO RELEASE OLD VERSIONS OF YOURSELF OR OTHERS WITHOUT BITTERNESS, AND WHY THAT’S SOMETIMES THE MOST GENEROUS GIFT YOU CAN GIVE

BY LAILA ELISE

Letting go often sounds poetic, until you’re the one gripping the thing (or person) that’s slipping away. Maybe it’s a friendship that’s faded into the quiet space between unanswered texts. Maybe it’s the version of yourself that used to say yes to everything because saying no felt too final. Or maybe it’s someone you’ve outgrown, not out of malice, but simply because your storylines no longer align. Releasing those attachments isn’t weakness – it’s wisdom. It’s what psychologists call “psychological flexibility,” the ability to adapt to change without losing your core sense of self. Dr.

Steven Hayes, the founder of Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT), describes it as “making room for pain so you can move toward what matters.” In simpler terms: you can’t open your hands to receive anything new if your fists are still clenched around what’s gone.

The Science of Release Neuroscience backs this up. When we cling to old narratives, our brains actually keep those emotional loops running. According to Dr. Ethan Kross, author of the international bestseller Chatter and a professor at the University of Michigan, replaying the past activates the same neural pathways as the original event, so your brain doesn’t know it’s over. Letting go, then, isn’t just emotional; it’s neurological spring cleaning.

That’s why people who actively practice reframing, thinking about change as growth rather than loss, report lower cortisol levels and higher overall wellbeing. It’s not about forgetting; it’s about updating the file.

Letting Go Without Bitterness Here’s the tricky part: letting go doesn’t mean pretending it didn’t matter. It means choosing to honor what was, without turning it into what could’ve been. There’s generosity in this framework. You stop demanding that people or past selves repay you for what they can’t give anymore.

When you say, “I release you,” whether it’s to an old friend, a past job, or the 2018 version of yourself who thought bangs were a good idea, you’re really saying, “I choose peace over proof.”

Brené Brown, a celebrated speaker and authority in vulnerability, courage, and empathy, calls this “the midlife unraveling,” a point where you stop performing and start editing. You realize that holding on out of nostalgia is just another form of fear. Letting go makes space for who you’re becoming next.

A New Kind of Generosity So, this holiday season, maybe the gift isn’t a candle or a bottle of wine. Maybe it’s something quieter: a clean emotional slate. A soft thank-you to the people who taught you what you needed to know and permission to stop rehearsing old versions of yourself. Letting go, in the end, isn’t about loss. It’s about grace, the kind that whispers, “You did your best. You learned what you could. You can move on now.” Because sometimes, the most generous gift you can give yourself or anyone else is release.