Code with Kelsey

Control.
It sneaks into almost everything I do.

I don't just want to do good work, I want it to be received perfectly.
I don't just want to share my ideas, I want everyone to embrace them.
I don't just want to show up authentically, I want it to land smoothly, without ruffling feathers.

And honestly? That's exhausting.

The Theory That Changed Everything

Recently, I came across Mel Robbins' Let Them Theory.

It's simple, almost too simple:
Let people be who they are. Let them make their choices. Let them think what they think. Let them react how they react. Stop trying to contort yourself to manage it all. You cannot control adults - and the harder you try, the less it will work! (which is something I have seen and felt for years!)

When I first heard it, I thought, Wow, that's freeing. I mean even that alone is freeing. But what surprised me was the hidden side of this idea...
The second part: "LET ME.”

Carrying Baggage That Wasn't Mine

When I first heard about Let Them, I didn't realize how much I was carrying around everyone else's potential reactions like heavy luggage I never signed up to carry.

For years, I caught myself:

→ Replaying a conversation in my head for days.
→ Pretending to be unsure when I already knew what I wanted.
→ Overthinking a single line of code review feedback for days.
→ Staying quiet in meetings when I had an idea.
→ Rewriting emails three times to avoid sounding stupid.

Sound draining? Because it was. If you've ever replayed a conversation in your head for three days straight, you know exactly how heavy that gets.

Every step of the way, I wasn't just doing the work. I was pre-managing how other people might feel about it.

And the wild part? I thought I was helping by carrying it. But really, I was making life harder for everyone - including myself!

The Shift to "Let Me"

The breakthrough wasn't just “let them do whatever.” It was:

→ Let me trust the knowledge and experience I've built.
→ Let me focus on my craft instead of my critics.
→ Let me show up authentically, without trying to soften myself in advance.
→ Let me own my decisions, even if they aren't universally approved.
→ Let me stop rehearsing their reactions before I even hit send.

That little shift flipped the script.

I stopped being the manager of everyone else's comfort, and I finally became the steward of my own growth.

How It Changed My Relationships

This showed up everywhere.
Even with my family, I realized how much I had been “managing” them without even knowing it.

For example, when I wanted to move out of my hometown, I pretended to be unsure. I acted like I needed advice when in reality, my mind was already made up.

So they'd share their thoughts, trying to help me make a decision. And I would get frustrated, feeling like they weren’t being supportive... when really, I never gave them the chance to be.

I wasn't being clear. I wasn't being honest.
And it created unnecessary distance.

But when I started practicing Let Me, everything shifted.

Now, I can simply tell them: here's what I've decided.
Here's where my heart is.
Here's the direction I'm going.

And what happened? They supported me.
Because they love me. Because they want to see me living in alignment with my character, my passions, and my desires. This shift has actually strengthened every single one of my relationships this year.

The Part I Didn't Expect

I started to notice all of the areas where I was holding myself back because of imagined reactions.

For a long time, I felt this tug to start posting on LinkedIn - to share the things I was learning, the lessons shaping me, even the faith and purpose behind it all.

But I didn't... Because in the back of my mind were all the doubts:

→ Who am I to say anything?
→ What if people think I'm stupid?
→ What if my coworkers think I'm trying to bolt from my job?
→ What if no one listens?
→ What if no one cares?

So I stayed quiet. I let imaginary reactions keep me from stepping into something I felt called to do and let people make my choices for me.

But when I embraced the Let Me side of the theory, something shifted. I realized: I wanted to post for me.
Because I had things I wanted to say.
Because I had things on my heart to share.
Because I wanted to practice writing.
And even if no one listened, that was okay. I knew I had to share. I had to step into it. I had to see what would happen.

And the irony?
When you let go of the outcomes you can't control, you gain power.
The second I let go of how people might receive it, I actually enjoyed it. I stopped obsessing about outcomes and started having fun with the process.

The Results

The relief? Immediate.
The clarity in my work? Unexpected.
The energy I got back? Incredible. Honestly, game-changing.

And the best part? When you stop trying to control how others receive your work, you actually start creating work that matters. You get bolder, clearer, more alive. You feel good about it.

Since embracing this mindset, I've:

→ Started sharing my thoughts on LinkedIn.
→ Embraced my unique perspective.
→ Let go of the need for approval.

Who knew that letting go could feel like finally picking up what you were meant to carry?

Let them react. Let them disagree. Let them be.
And most importantly: let me be me.