“Let go” might be the mantra of my life. Long before I entered recovery for sex and love addiction I was aware that my mind was like a bear trap: once I decided I wanted something I was absolutely bent on getting it.
This was not ambition. I was not simply going to do what it takes to achieve a goal. I was powerfully fixed on and obsessed with my object of interest, whether it was a pack of cigarettes, a new jacket I wanted, or a man I was interested in. As a child I might have been described as willful, or pushy, or even spoiled and disobedient. But in retrospect it’s clear that addiction was at play from the time I was very young. It manifested itself in various ways, but the underlying workings of my mind and brain operated as compulsive thoughts and behaviours. I was determined to see my desires through at virtually any cost—even my own wellbeing, much of the time. I was utterly unable to let go.
At a psychological and physiological level, letting go—or surrender—is the cessation of all internal gripping, clinging, or struggling. It is breathing with awareness, noticing one’s physical sensations, and simply observing one’s immediate internal and external reality. This allows for clear perception and accurate viewing of reality as it is.
Learning to let go internally is necessary to disentangle oneself from the relentless struggle of the pleasure/pain cycle, or addiction.
As a sex and love addict (which includes projecting a fantasy onto someone), I must practice letting go as I navigate the waters of dating and relationships so as not to fall again into an unfulfilling or abusive relationship. After spending a few years with a man prone to rage, violence, and manipulation, I can no longer afford to abandon reality, nor do I truly want to. I must be willing to let go so that I can see people as they really are. And, if they show signs of dysfunction that could prove harmful to me, I must be willing to let them go.
Letting someone or something I want go has never been easy for me, as it uncovers painful wounds from childhood abuse and trauma. But I continue, to my own astonishment, to let people go who are not right for me. There was a time when I could not do this, and had to be dragged through the mud before I would finally be forced to release my grip.
Thanks to addiction recovery, many supportive friends, and a calling for something greater than living my life as an active addict, I am learning to let go.