My Unexpected Reflections on Mel Robbins' Book Let Them
How 'Let Them' Inspired Me to Step Outside My Comfort Zone in a New City
If you’re a podcast fan, into personal development, on social media, or honestly just existing, I’m sure you’ve heard of Mel Robbins’ new book, Let Them. For those of you living under a rock (kidding!), here’s the quick gist: I just finished the audiobook, and it boils down to this—you don’t have control over other people’s thoughts, actions, or feelings, so you have to “Let Them” be who they are. At the same time, you have to take ownership of your own life, actions, and thoughts and “Let Me” make decisions that serve you.
Now, of course, there’s some controversy (isn’t there always?) about the book. A poet named Cassie Phillips went viral in late 2022 with her poem Let Them. While the book backs the theory with neuroscience and other scientific research, I do think it’s important to acknowledge Phillips for inspiring the tagline.
Honestly, the theory was fine. I didn’t find it groundbreaking, but Robbins includes plenty of personal stories that bring the concepts to life. And you know when a book comes into your life at just the right time? There have been a few in my life—fiction and nonfiction—that have aligned so perfectly with what I was going through at the time. Let Them was one of those books for me.
Mel describes moving to rural Vermont after raising her kids near Boston and feeling absolutely miserable. She had no friends, hated everything about the town, and was completely unhappy—for almost a year. Finally, through a conversation with her daughters, she realized she wasn’t upholding her end of the bargain—the Let Me part of the Let Them theory.
So, what did she do? She decided to take action. She introduced herself to people in the coffee shop. She asked a woman in her neighborhood to go for a walk, which turned into a weekly thing. She and her husband started inviting new acquaintances to join them on the weekends. She became the one to initiate connection.
That part hit me hard because here I am, in a new city, trying to meet people. My husband is amazing at this—he’ll strike up a conversation with anyone, anywhere. No seriously from our server at a restaurant to a stranger sitting next to us at a pub. So, I started watching how he does it, treating it like a skill I could learn. And then, I decided to experiment.
First attempt: I saw a girl on Instagram inviting people to a Sunday morning walking club. She was new-ish to Dublin, originally from Tipperary, and wanted to meet people. This was so out of my comfort zone, but I went. It ended up being just the two of us, but we connected on so many fronts—business, wellness, and just life in general. I really enjoyed her company, so I challenged myself to take it a step further. I asked her if she wanted to grab dinner. And guess what? She said yes. We’re going out Friday.
Second attempt: We just joined a gym, and I was excited to start a new workout routine. I decided to take a 10 a.m. class, planning my morning around it—except, of course, the furniture we were having delivered at 9:15 showed up late. At 9:40, they finally arrived, unluckily they were in and out in 5 minutes. I sprinted to the gym.
Breathless, I tapped my card twice at the entrance—denied. I explained to the receptionist this was my first time using the card, who, at a glacial pace, told me I had to tap my card, take a picture, tap again. By the time I made it to the studio, the class was completely full.
I spotted a woman near the front, took a deep breath, and said, “Hi, I’m new here. I’ve never done this before.”
She looked at me like I had ten heads—then realized she was standing right next to the instructor’s podium. She laughed, and explained she wasn’t the instructor. She attempted to help me find a space by scooting her bench over, and making space next to her. Dead center, front row. My worst nightmare.
After class, I thanked my “new friend,” and we chatted a bit about the class and both left smiling. It was a small moment, but it reminded me—what’s the worst that could happen when you put yourself out there?
So, while the Let Them theory might be life-changing for some, for me, the book arrived at the perfect time. It was the reminder I needed: If I want to build a life here in Dublin, it’s my responsibility. Not the people in my community, not the gym instructors, not my husband’s. Mine. I have to put myself out there and see what magic unfolds.
