“Are you even listening to yourself right now?” my sister asked over the phone.
I had just spent fifteen minutes ranting about my coworker who consistently missed deadlines, forcing me to pick up the slack. Again.
“You’re the one who recommended this book,” I replied defensively. “I thought you’d want to hear how I’m applying it.”
“Vic, that’s not applying it. That’s the opposite of applying it. You’re trying to control her even harder while pretending you’re ‘letting her.’ That’s not what Mel Robbins meant.”
She was right. I’d been reading “The Let Them Theory: A Life-Changing Tool That Millions of People Can’t Stop Talking About” by Mel Robbins and Sawyer Robbins, but I’d been implementing it all wrong.
The theory behind the theory
At its core, “The Let Them Theory” offers a deceptively simple premise: stop wasting energy trying to control others’ actions, behaviors, and opinions. Instead, redirect that energy toward what you actually can control—your own responses and choices.
This isn’t just another self-help platitude. Robbins breaks down how this mindset shift applies to specific scenarios we encounter daily, particularly in professional environments where boundary issues and emotional overextension so often lead to burnout.
For a workplace overthinker like me, the concept felt both liberating and terrifying. What would happen if I stopped trying to manage every aspect of my team’s performance? What if I focused only on my deliverables and let others face the consequences of their actions?
My control-freak history
I’ve always been the person who picks up the slack. The one who reminds others of deadlines. The one who works nights and weekends when projects fall behind. I’ve built my professional identity around being reliable—the woman who makes things happen no matter what.
But Robbins’ book made me question whether this approach was serving me or just enabling behavior that kept me exhausted and resentful.
Take my coworker Annie. She’s brilliant but chronically disorganized. Every project with her becomes a nail-biter as she inevitably submits her portion just hours before our final deadline. For years, I’ve planned for her delays by starting my portion early and leaving extra time to fix her work if needed.
“Let Them” suggested I was part of the problem. By constantly accommodating Annie’s poor time management, I was ensuring she never experienced any real consequences for it.
What would ‘Let Them’ look like?
After my sister’s reality check, I decided to genuinely implement Robbins’ approach during our next project.
I completed my portion on schedule.
I did not send Annie reminder emails.
I did not work late to fix her mistakes.
I did not volunteer to cover for her when she missed the deadline.
This was excruciating. Watching a project I cared about potentially fail went against every controlling instinct I’d cultivated over my career.
But something unexpected happened. Annie did miss the deadline—but only by a few hours, not the days I’d anticipated. And when our manager asked about the delay, I simply stated the facts without covering for her. Annie apologized, took full responsibility, and promised to build in more buffer time for future projects.
The sky didn’t fall. The client didn’t fire us. And I didn’t have to work until midnight.
Where the book succeeds and fails
Robbins excels at making complex psychological concepts accessible. The “Let Them/Let Me” framework provides a practical tool for distinguishing between what you can and cannot control in any situation.
Where the book sometimes falls short is in addressing scenarios with real power dynamics. Some critics note that the idea of simply “letting them” doesn’t account for workplace situations where silence equals complicity or where genuine harm might occur.
But this misses Robbins’ nuance. “Let Them” doesn’t mean becoming a passive observer to injustice. It means being strategic about where you spend your precious energy and learning to distinguish between what requires intervention and what doesn’t.
The hardest part
The most challenging aspect isn’t understanding the theory—it’s implementing it consistently. After decades of micromanaging, switching to a “Let Them” mindset feels like trying to write with your non-dominant hand.
I still struggle daily with the urge to step in, fix problems before they happen, and protect others from the consequences of their choices. Sometimes I succeed in letting go. Often I fail.
But I keep Robbins’ book on my desk as a reminder that my compulsion to control isn’t always helpful—to others or to myself.
Buy “The Let Them Theory” on Amazon
This review contains affiliate links. As an Amazon Associate, I earn from qualifying purchases.
