A Trauma-Informed Take on Mel Robbins' Viral Concept of "Let Them" But Not Without Feeling
- May 24, 2025
- 5 min read
Updated: May 26, 2025
Charon Normand Widmer, LMSW, is a licensed psychotherapist, somatic sex therapist, and trauma specialist. She specializes in working with individuals and couples seeking support navigating erotic, gender and sexual identity challenges; queer and alternative relationships, and trauma, utilizing a strengths-based, psychodynamic, compassion-based approach. Many seek therapy to feel better; working with Charon entails learning how to get better at feeling.
When I first heard Mel Robbins share her now-famous mantra, 'Let them', I experienced a profound exhale and a flicker of resistance. The idea of letting them walk away, letting them misunderstand you, letting them not choose you, carries a beauty in its simplicity and strength of surrender. However, this surrender has its complexities, especially when it comes to maintaining emotional honesty.
My extensive experience in trauma work, both personal and professional, led me to a deeper understanding of this mantra than what initially met the eye. It's been a journey of personal growth and self-discovery.
For those of us who've lived through attachment wounds, abandonment, enmeshment, or chronic invalidation, "let them" doesn't always land like freedom. Sometimes it lands like a trigger. Like reenactment. Like the silence after the door slams, again. Not because the idea is wrong, but because the nervous system remembers, and it doesn't differentiate between wisdom and withdrawal when in survival mode.
As a trauma specialist and relationship therapist, I sit daily with people whose bodies have become brilliant at adapting. Overfunctioning, people-pleasing, appeasing, analyzing, and earning love, all of it woven into the fabric of their nervous systems. For me, "let them" isn't just a mantra. It's an invitation to a more profound exploration:
Can I let them and still stay with myself?
The wisdom in "let them"
There's no doubt that Mel Robbins' message resonates.
Many of us spend our lives trying to manage the perceptions, reactions, and behaviors of others. We exhaust ourselves by walking on eggshells, shrinking our truths, and editing our desires. We confuse control with connection and hypervigilance with love.
So, yes, let them be a powerful wake-up call.
Let them be who they are.
Let them show you their capacity.
Let them choose, or not choose.
When we stop performing for approval, we create space for authentic relating. We also discover what's real, who's aligned, and who never was.
At its core, "let them" invites us into sovereignty, self-trust, and choosing ourselves not out of spite or defense but from clarity.
But
When "let them" meets trauma
When trauma lives in the body, we don't always experience "letting" as a choice. Sometimes it feels like abandonment, like being left again.
When our early experiences taught us that love is conditional, inconsistent, or earned, watching someone walk away doesn't feel like liberation. It feels like confirmation that we're too much, not enough, invisible, and replaceable.
The ego and the inner child get loud here:
If I let them go, what does that say about me?
If I don't fight for this, does it mean I'm unworthy?
Who will I be if I'm not needed?
The body tightens. Old stories surface not because we're "broken" but because we're wired for connection, and connection once meant survival.
In those moments, "let them" can become another bypass, a spiritualized shutdown, a clever way to numb what needs to be felt.
A compassionate reframe
So what if we didn't stop at "let them"?
What if we allowed that to be the opening, not the endpoint?
Let them, and notice what rises in you.
Let them, and stay curious about your ache.
Let them, and tend to the part of you that fears being forgotten.
This work isn't about perfect detachment. It's about embodied presence.
It's about being able to say:
"I'm not going to chase you, but I'm going to be honest that this hurts."
It's about holding boundaries and tenderness.
When we let others be who they are, we must also let ourselves be who we are, feelings and all.
In relationship work
In couples work, I see how charged this becomes. One partner shuts down, the other clings, one storms out, and the other overexplains. Both are caught in nervous system loops that have nothing to do with the present moment and everything to do with the past.
"Let them" in this context might sound like:
Let them be upset without rushing to fix it.
Let them take space without interpreting it as rejection.
Let them have their process, even when it triggers yours.
This isn't indifference.
It's a higher level of attunement.
It's trusting the process of rupture and repair.
Knowing that loving someone doesn't mean controlling them, and being loved doesn't require proving your worth.
However, it's crucial to be self-aware and present with our own internal experience when practicing 'let them'. If 'let them' is used to suppress, dismiss, or shut down, it becomes a trauma response in disguise. This self-awareness empowers us to use the mantra in a healthy and healing way.
Because if "let them" is used to suppress, dismiss, or shut down, it becomes a trauma response in disguise.
The deeper invitation
For me, 'let them' has evolved into a spiritual practice, but only when coupled with emotional honesty.
I let them misunderstand me, and I let myself feel the sting.
I let them walk away, and I honor the part of me that longs to be chosen.
I let them not see me, and I turn toward the place in me that still wants to be known.
This is the paradox of healing:
We learn to loosen our grip on others while tightening our embrace on ourselves.
We stop controlling outcomes and start regulating our inner world.
We stop performing for love and start becoming love.
In trauma-informed work, there's a phrase I come back to often:
Go at the pace of the nervous system.
For some, "let them" might be too fast, too abrupt.
For others, it might be the phrase that unlocks a lifetime of codependency.
There's no one-size-fits-all. There's only truth and the courage to meet it.
Final reflections
I no longer hear "let them" as a command.
I hear it as an invitation.
Let them, and feel.
Let them, and stay.
Let them, and choose you.
Because healing is not just about letting go, it's about coming home.
And sometimes, coming home means learning to sit with the ache, the not-knowing, the letting, and still, miraculously, staying present.
Charon Normand-Widmer, Sex Therapist, Relationship Coach
Charon Normand Widmer, LMSW, is a licensed psychotherapist, somatic sex therapist, and trauma specialist. She specializes in working with individuals and couples seeking support navigating erotic, gender and sexual identity challenges; queer and alternative relationships, and trauma, utilizing a strengths-based, psychodynamic, compassion-based approach. Many seek therapy to feel better; working with Charon entails learning how to get better at feeling.
