Mark: Alright Michelle, you read the book. Give me your five-word review of This Is Me Letting You Go. Michelle: Hmm. ‘Painfully relatable, but ultimately hopeful.’ Mark: I like that. Mine is: ‘Stop waiting, start your life.’ Michelle: Ooh, that's good. And that really cuts to the core of it, doesn't it? It’s not just another breakup book. Mark: Not at all. Today we’re diving into This Is Me Letting You Go by Heidi Priebe. And what's fascinating is that Priebe isn't just a writer sharing her diary; she has a Master’s degree specializing in attachment theory. So these aren't just personal essays; they're backed by a deep understanding of human connection and loss. Michelle: Which explains why it feels so sharp and insightful, even when it's describing something as universal as heartbreak. The book has this reputation for being incredibly popular but also a bit polarizing. Some readers find it to be a life-changing companion, while others feel it’s a little too sentimental. Mark: I think that tension is exactly what makes it worth talking about. It lives in that space between raw, personal feeling and broader psychological truth. And Priebe gets right to it in the introduction. She says she initially wanted to make her pain pretty, to give it purpose. But she quickly realized something profound. Michelle: What’s that? Mark: That real pain isn’t pretty at all.

Michelle: I love that. It pushes back against this whole self-help culture that tells you to immediately find the lesson or the silver lining. Sometimes, things just hurt, and you have to sit with the ugliness of it. Mark: Exactly. Priebe argues that we have this misconception that ‘letting go’ is a single, dramatic event. You know, you burn the photos, you delete the number, and you’re done. You’ve moved on. Michelle: Right, like a movie montage. A new haircut, a trip with friends, and suddenly you’re healed and ready for the next chapter. Mark: But her perspective, grounded in that attachment background, is that letting go is actually a process of a thousand tiny, un-glamorous moments. It’s a war of attrition fought in the most mundane places. She has this chapter, "Read This If You Feel Like It’s Taking You Too Long To Move On," that captures this perfectly. Michelle: Oh, that chapter hit me hard. The idea that moving on is like having one foot on the gas and one on the brake. Mark: Precisely. And she illustrates it with these small, almost invisible scenarios. Imagine it’s been six months since a breakup. You’re starting to feel normal again. You go to the grocery store on a Tuesday night, just to pick up something for dinner. You’re walking down the aisle, and you see their favorite brand of tomato soup is on sale. Michelle: Ugh, the ambush. I know this feeling. Mark: It’s an ambush. And for a split second, your hand reaches for it out of pure habit. Your brain, wired by years of shared life, sends the signal: ‘Get the soup.’ But then you stop. You realize they’re not coming over for dinner. They’re not sick and in need of comfort food. They’re gone. And in that moment, you have to make a conscious choice to put the can back on the shelf. Michelle: And that small act of not buying the soup feels monumental. It’s a tiny heartbreak all over again. Mark: It’s a tiny heartbreak, but it’s also a tiny act of letting go. Priebe’s point is that this is the real work. It’s not the grand gestures; it’s the hundreds of daily decisions to not buy the soup, to not text them when you hear your old song, to not drive by their street. Each one is a small release. Michelle: You know, some of the more critical reviews of the book say this style is too personal, that it feels like reading someone’s diary and might not be universally applicable. Do you think these small, specific moments are truly relatable, or is it just one person’s very specific experience of a breakup? Mark: That’s a fair question, and I see why some might feel that way. But I think its power comes from its specificity. Attachment is built on tiny, repeated rituals—the soup, the morning text, the inside jokes. So, healing from a broken attachment has to happen at that same micro-level. It’s not a universal formula, but the feeling of being ambushed by a can of soup is universal for anyone who’s had to unlearn a person. Michelle: That’s a great way to put it. You have to ‘unlearn a person.’ It’s an active process, not a passive waiting game. And it’s exhausting. Mark: It is. Priebe says exhaustion can be a sign of growth. You’re tired for the right reasons—because you’re rewiring your brain, one grocery trip at a time. You’re not pathetic for mourning while you grow; you’re human.

Mark: And this idea of breaking these small, habitual connections leads directly to her most famous—and maybe most controversial—idea, which is about timing in relationships. Michelle: Ah, yes. The quote that’s all over the internet. I feel like everyone has seen it, even if they don’t know where it came from. Mark: It’s a powerful one. In her chapter, "The Truth About Meeting Someone At The Wrong Time," Priebe writes: "You never meet the right people at the wrong time because the right people are timeless." Michelle: Okay, but hold on. That feels a little black-and-white, doesn't it? It’s so absolute. Are we really saying there's never a case of bad timing? What if one person is dealing with a family tragedy, or just got a two-year job assignment overseas? That feels like genuinely bad timing. Mark: I think her point is more provocative than that. It’s not that difficult circumstances don't exist. It's that we use "wrong timing" as a convenient, no-fault excuse to avoid a harder truth. Michelle: And what's the harder truth? Mark: That the person just isn't worth the inconvenience. Priebe argues that the right person makes you want to throw your plans away. They don't conflict with your life; they become a new, better plan. If you’re saying the timing is wrong, you’re essentially saying, "My current life plan is more important to me than a future with you." Michelle: Wow. When you frame it like that, it’s brutal. It’s a much kinder-sounding rejection, but the message is the same. Mark: Exactly. She has another chapter, "You Should Choose The Lifestyle You Want Over The Person You Want," that builds on this. She tells this hypothetical story of a globe-trotting artist and a stable, homebody accountant. They love each other, but their fundamental desires for life are completely opposed. The artist feels stifled; the accountant feels anxious. Their love can't bridge that gap. The problem isn't timing; it's that they want different lives. Michelle: So the "right person" is someone who wants the same lifestyle you do. It’s less about a mystical soulmate connection and more about practical, shared values. Mark: Precisely. And this leads to her even more radical idea. If you stop blaming "wrong timing" and start prioritizing your own desired life, what does that mean for the concept of "The One"? Michelle: It kind of shatters it, right? If you’re building your own life, you’re not waiting for someone to complete it. Mark: Exactly. In the chapter, "Read This If You’re Worried That You’ll Never Find 'The One'," she poses a thought experiment. Imagine a fortune ball told you with 100% certainty that you would never find romantic love. After the initial devastation, how would your life change? Michelle: That’s a terrifying question. But I see where she’s going. You’d probably buy the house you wanted without waiting for a partner. You’d take that solo trip. You’d pursue the career you were afraid was too demanding for a relationship. You’d stop making all these tiny decisions based on the possibility of meeting someone. Mark: You’d be liberated. Priebe’s point is that the search for love, even subconsciously, holds us back in a million subtle ways. And the guarantee of its absence could be the ultimate freedom. It’s a powerful, if unsettling, idea.

Michelle: So if you're not waiting for 'The One' and you're not blaming 'bad timing,' then all that's left is... you. Which, honestly, sounds terrifying. Mark: It is terrifying! But that’s the final, and most profound, destination of the book. It’s about radical self-reliance. Letting go of someone else forces you to fully show up for yourself. Michelle: But how do you even start? Especially when you're still hurting or angry. How do you love yourself when you feel broken? Mark: Priebe offers a kind of roadmap in the chapter "Here Is How You Love Without Expectation." It’s not about grand affirmations. It’s about small, concrete actions. First, she says, love yourself first. Don't cancel your plans for someone unreliable. Be the person you can count on. Michelle: Okay, that’s practical. What else? Mark: Choose honesty. Stop playing games. Say what you mean. She says, "Like attracts like, and if you’re looking for straightforward, no-nonsense people, you will have to become one." And then, compassion. Remember your own mistakes. Understand that when people let you down, it’s often about their own struggles, not about you. Michelle: That detachment is so hard, though. When you’re hurt, it feels intensely personal. Mark: It does. But her most powerful point in that chapter is about the root of our expectations. She writes, "At the root of expectation is need. And if you can fulfill your own needs, the need for others to do so disappears." Michelle: Wow. That’s a mic drop. If you don't need them to text you good morning, you won't be disappointed when they don't. Because you’re already having a good morning on your own. Mark: You’re already bringing the light to your own life, as she says in another chapter. But that brings up the final piece of the puzzle. What if the reason you're in pain isn't just neediness, but a genuine injustice? What if someone cheated or betrayed you? How do you deal with that anger? Michelle: Yeah, loving without expectation is one thing. Forgiving a deep wound is another. Mark: Priebe tackles this head-on. She says forgiveness is not about letting the other person off the hook. It’s not about saying what they did was okay. She uses this incredible analogy. She says staying angry is like "continually picking the scab off a cut because you think that if you keep the wound open, you won’t get a scar." Michelle: That is such a visceral image. You keep re-injuring yourself hoping for a perfect, scar-free healing that will never come. Mark: Exactly. You’re preventing your own healing. Forgiveness, in her view, is simply giving up hope for a different past. It’s accepting that the hurricane hit your city. The damage is done. Anger won't rebuild the buildings. Forgiveness is the moment you decide to stop yelling at the storm and start picking up the bricks to rebuild, for yourself. It’s about taking your power back.

Mark: So we start with the messy, un-glamorous pain of a breakup, move through challenging the myths about timing and soulmates that keep us stuck, and finally land on this incredibly powerful idea of self-reliance and forgiveness. Michelle: It’s a whole journey. It begins with the other person, with the loss of them, but it ends entirely with you. The focus shifts completely inward. Mark: It does. Priebe's ultimate argument is that letting someone go is the final, and most profound, act of choosing yourself. You stop waiting for them to come back, and you realize, as she says, that someone has to show up to fill their place. And that person has to be you. Michelle: It really makes you think. What stories have you been telling yourself about a past relationship that might be holding you back? Is it a story about 'bad timing' or about 'the one that got away'? Mark: Those are powerful questions. The book really pushes you to examine the narratives you've built around your own heartbreaks. Michelle: It does. And for our listeners, we'd love to hear your thoughts on this. Join the conversation on our social channels. What's one 'maybe' or one 'what if' you're ready to let go of after hearing this? Mark: That’s a beautiful challenge. It’s about moving from the hypothetical universe where things worked out to the real one, where you have the power to make your own life work. Michelle: A life that’s yours, and yours alone. Mark: This is Aibrary, signing off.