F63 — THE TIGHTER YOU HOLD ON, THE MORE IT HURTS

Sometimes letting go isn't giving up.

Imagine you're holding tightly to a rope.

At first, it feels manageable.

You have a good grip. You're determined. You're convinced that if you just hold on long enough, things will work out.

But the rope begins to pull.

Your hands start to hurt.

You tighten your grip.

The harder it pulls, the more desperately you cling on.

And before long, you're exhausted, your hands are burning and you're wondering why on earth you're still holding this bloody rope.

Yet the thought of letting go feels terrifying.

Because what happens if you do?

What might you lose?

What if you've been holding on for years?

What if letting go means admitting that something you desperately wanted isn't going to happen?

Sometimes the thing causing us pain isn't just what we're holding on to. It's how tightly we're gripping it.

What are we holding on to?

We don't just hold on to people or possessions.

We hold on to ideas about how life should be.

We hold on to relationships that have changed.

Friendships that no longer feel reciprocal.

Jobs that once suited us but now leave us miserable.

Goals that used to matter but no longer reflect who we've become.

Old identities.

Expectations.

Regrets.

Resentments.

The need to be right.

The need to be liked.

The need to know exactly what happens next.

And occasionally, a pair of jeans from 1998 that we're absolutely convinced we'll fit into again.

Some things are easier to release than others.

But the common thread is that we can become attached not only to what something is, but to what it represents.

A relationship might represent security.

A career might represent status.

A particular goal might represent success.

An old identity might represent familiarity.

And letting go can feel like losing a part of ourselves.

Why do we hold on when something hurts?

Because letting go often involves uncertainty.

Even an uncomfortable situation can feel safer than an unfamiliar one.

We know what to expect.

We know the rules.

We've learnt how to cope.

And the alternative may involve difficult conversations, uncomfortable emotions or decisions we aren't quite ready to make.

There may also be a powerful sense of investment.

"I've spent twenty years building this career."

"We've been together for so long."

"I've put so much effort into this."

"I can't just walk away now."

Psychologists describe one related tendency as the sunk cost effect — allowing past investments of time, money or effort to influence decisions about whether to continue, even when those investments cannot be recovered.

Of course, commitment and perseverance can be valuable.

But sometimes it's worth asking:

Am I continuing because this still matters to me, or because I've already invested so much in it?

Letting go doesn't always mean leaving

This is an important distinction.

Letting go of a relationship doesn't necessarily mean ending it.

You might be letting go of the expectation that someone will behave exactly as you would like.

Letting go of a friendship might mean accepting that it has changed, rather than demanding it return to what it once was.

Letting go of a career ambition might mean redefining success rather than abandoning your professional life.

Letting go of perfectionism doesn't mean no longer caring about doing things well.

And letting go of control doesn't mean becoming passive or allowing other people to treat you badly.

Sometimes letting go involves changing the way we relate to a situation, rather than changing the situation itself.

You can care deeply about something without allowing it to consume you.

The exhausting business of trying to control everything

Most of us like a little certainty.

We want to know what's going to happen, how people will respond and whether our decisions will work out.

Unfortunately, life has a rather irritating habit of refusing to cooperate.

We can't control what other people think.

We can't make someone love us.

We can't guarantee that our children will make sensible decisions.

We can't prevent every disappointment.

We can't control the past.

And we certainly can't control the British weather, although that doesn't stop us discussing it at considerable length.

But we can influence some things.

We can choose how we communicate.

We can set boundaries.

We can make decisions about our own behaviour.

We can ask for help.

We can decide where to direct our time and energy.

And we can practise responding differently when things don't go according to plan.

The challenge is recognising the difference between what we can control, what we can influence and what lies outside our control.

Acceptance isn't approval

The word acceptance can be misunderstood.

People sometimes hear it as:

"Just put up with it."

"Stop caring."

"Don't be upset."

"There's nothing you can do."

But psychological acceptance doesn't mean liking a situation or deciding that it's fair.

It means recognising what is happening, rather than exhausting ourselves fighting the fact that it's happening.

You can accept that a relationship has ended while feeling devastated about it.

You can accept that someone has disappointed you without excusing their behaviour.

You can accept that your body is changing while still taking steps to look after your health.

You can accept uncertainty while continuing to make thoughtful decisions.

Acceptance can create space to ask:

Given that this is where I am, what would I like to do next?

That's very different from giving up.

The identities we've outgrown

Sometimes the rope we're holding is an old version of ourselves.

Perhaps you've always been the responsible one.

The successful one.

The people-pleaser.

The organiser.

The strong one who never asks for help.

The person who keeps everyone happy.

The person who never quits.

These identities may have served you well at particular stages of life.

But what happens when they stop fitting?

Perhaps you're exhausted by always being responsible.

Perhaps the career that once defined you no longer feels meaningful.

Perhaps you want to set boundaries, but worry that people won't like the new version of you.

Perhaps you're approaching midlife and beginning to question whether the life you've built is the life you still want.

Changing an identity can feel uncomfortable because it challenges both how we see ourselves and how others expect us to behave.

But you're allowed to change.

You don't have to remain the person you needed to be ten or twenty years ago.

What about relationships?

Relationships are particularly complicated because they involve other people.

And other people, rather inconveniently, have minds of their own.

We may hold on to how a relationship used to be.

Or how we hoped it would become.

We may spend years waiting for someone to change.

Trying to make them understand.

Replaying conversations.

Explaining ourselves differently.

Hoping that if we just find the right words, everything will finally fall into place.

Sometimes relationships improve through honest communication, effort, compromise and support.

Sometimes they don't.

And sometimes the most painful thing to release isn't the person.

It's the future we imagined having with them.

That can involve genuine grief.

Letting go may mean accepting that we cannot create a healthy relationship through our efforts alone.

It doesn't necessarily mean leaving.

But it may mean recognising what is and isn't within our power to change.

Resentment: Holding on to something that keeps hurting

Have you ever replayed an argument in your head?

Not once.

Not twice.

But approximately 4,000 times.

You've perfected your response.

You've identified every inconsistency in the other person's argument.

You've even imagined the moment they finally admit you were right.

Unfortunately, they're probably getting on with their day, blissfully unaware that the debate is still raging in your head.

Resentment can keep us emotionally attached to something long after the original event.

Of course, anger can be useful. It may tell us that a boundary has been crossed or something important needs attention.

But repeatedly revisiting an injustice without finding a constructive way forward can become exhausting.

Letting go of resentment doesn't necessarily mean forgiving someone.

It doesn't mean forgetting what happened.

And it certainly doesn't mean inviting someone back into your life if they've treated you badly.

Sometimes it simply means deciding that an event no longer deserves quite so much of your mental energy.

You can remember what happened without continually reliving it.

When perseverance becomes a problem

We're often encouraged never to give up.

Keep going.

Try harder.

Push through.

Don't quit.

And sometimes that's excellent advice.

Learning a new skill, building a business, improving fitness or developing a relationship can require patience and persistence.

But perseverance isn't automatically a virtue in every situation.

If a goal is no longer meaningful, a strategy isn't working or the cost of continuing has become too high, changing direction may be sensible.

Research on goal adjustment suggests that being able to disengage from unattainable goals and re-engage with meaningful alternatives can be associated with better psychological wellbeing.

In other words, sometimes knowing when to stop is a skill.

The question isn't simply whether something is difficult.

It's whether continuing remains worthwhile.

How do you know when you're gripping too tightly?

There isn't a universal answer, but some questions may help.

Does this situation occupy a disproportionate amount of my thoughts?

Am I repeatedly trying to change something outside my control?

Am I sacrificing my health, relationships or wellbeing to maintain it?

Am I holding on primarily because I'm afraid of what happens if I stop?

Am I pursuing something because it still matters, or because it once mattered?

What might become possible if I loosened my grip?

These questions aren't intended to push you towards a particular decision.

They're an invitation to look at the costs and benefits of continuing as you are.

What does the psychology tell us?

Several established psychological ideas connect with the rope-burn metaphor.

Psychological flexibility: Acceptance and Commitment Therapy (ACT) explores how we can make room for difficult thoughts and feelings while choosing actions guided by our values.

Experiential avoidance: Attempts to suppress or escape unwanted emotions can sometimes increase distress or restrict our lives, although distraction and avoidance can also be useful in certain circumstances.

The sunk cost effect: Research shows that previous investments can influence our willingness to continue with something, even when future benefits no longer justify the costs.

Goal adjustment: Research suggests that the ability to disengage from goals that are no longer attainable and pursue meaningful alternatives can support wellbeing.

Acceptance and control: Recognising the limits of our control can help us direct our efforts towards actions that are more likely to be useful.

These concepts don't suggest that letting go is always the right choice.

They simply encourage us to consider whether our current response is helping us live in accordance with what matters most.

A little coaching reflection

Think about something you're currently finding difficult to release.

It might be a relationship, expectation, goal, regret, resentment, identity or situation.

1. What am I holding on to?

Try to describe it as honestly as possible.

2. What does it represent to me?

Security? Love? Identity? Success? Familiarity? Hope?

3. What am I afraid might happen if I loosen my grip?

What feels uncertain or uncomfortable?

4. What is holding on costing me?

Consider your time, energy, relationships, health and emotional wellbeing.

5. What is still within my control?

What actions or decisions can I realistically influence?

6. What might letting go actually look like?

Would it mean changing an expectation, setting a boundary, accepting uncertainty or making a different decision?

7. What could become possible if I released some of this energy?

What might I have more room for?

Try this: The rope exercise

Imagine holding a rope that represents something you're struggling with.

Picture yourself gripping it tightly.

Notice what happens when you imagine pulling harder.

Now imagine loosening your grip slightly.

You don't have to drop the rope.

You don't have to make a dramatic decision.

Simply imagine allowing a little more space between yourself and whatever you're holding.

Then complete these sentences:

The rope I'm holding represents:

I'm holding on because:

The hardest thing about letting go would be:

The cost of continuing to grip so tightly is:

One thing I could loosen my grip on is:

One small action I could take is:

The purpose isn't to force yourself to let go.

It's to explore whether holding on in the same way is still serving you.

A final thought

There are times in life when holding on is exactly what we need to do.

When something matters deeply.

When we're working towards a meaningful goal.

When a relationship deserves care and effort.

When perseverance helps us through a difficult period.

But there are also times when the rope has been pulling against us for so long that we've forgotten we have a choice about how tightly we grip it.

We keep holding on because we've always held on.

Because we're frightened.

Because we've invested so much.

Because letting go feels like failure.

But perhaps letting go isn't always about losing something.

Perhaps sometimes it's about making room.

Room for different possibilities.

Room for healthier relationships.

Room for new goals.

Room for a version of ourselves that no longer needs to carry quite so much.

You don't always have to drop the rope. Sometimes you just need to stop pulling so hard.

And perhaps, when your hands finally stop burning, you'll discover there's something else you'd rather be holding.

Preferably a glass of something lovely, on a sunny terrace, without a care in the world.

Sources and further reading

• Hayes, S. C., Strosahl, K. D. & Wilson, K. G. (2012). Acceptance and Commitment Therapy: The Process and Practice of Mindful Change. Guilford Press.

• Arkes, H. R. & Blumer, C. (1985). The Psychology of Sunk Cost. Organizational Behavior and Human Decision Processes, 35(1), 124–140.

• Wrosch, C., Scheier, M. F., Miller, G. E., Schulz, R. & Carver, C. S. (2003). Adaptive Self-Regulation of Unattainable Goals: Goal Disengagement, Goal Reengagement, and Subjective Well-Being. Personality and Social Psychology Bulletin, 29(12), 1494–1508.

• Kashdan, T. B. & Rottenberg, J. (2010). Psychological Flexibility as a Fundamental Aspect of Health. Clinical Psychology Review, 30(7), 865–878.

• Gross, J. J. (2015). Emotion Regulation: Current Status and Future Prospects. Psychological Inquiry, 26(1), 1–26.

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