Letting Go Without Losing Yourself

Unhooking from “If I let go, I’ll lose who I am” with ACT defusion

Someone walks down a path holding a heavy book against their chest—it’s their life story, filled with chapters like “I’m the hardworking one,” “I can’t fail,” “I always have to be strong,” “I’m not good enough,” or “If I let go, I’ll lose myself.”

Now, because they’re holding the book tightly, they can’t see around them. Their arms ache, but they won’t loosen their grip—believing if they do, the story and they will vanish.

In ACT, this is known as cognitive fusion: the point where your words, labels, and stories become so tightly attached to your identity that they feel like absolute facts. But here’s the twist: the skill isn’t tearing the book apart or debating with its pages. Instead, it’s about recognizing, “Oh… this is a book. A story. It’s not the entire me.” With this realization, the individual can move the book from right in front of their face to holding it more gently at their side. The book remains and those stories don’t simply vanish, but now their hands are free to guide, gesture, create, or grasp what’s most important.

That’s cognitive defusion: loosening the grip so your story is still acknowledged, but it doesn’t control your every move (Monestès et al., 2024).

There’s a neuroscience rhyme here, too. When we put feelings or stories into words, the brain responds differently. The amygdala, our alarm system, quiets down. Meanwhile, the prefrontal regions—the parts that help us regulate and choose—light up [5]. In other words, naming a thought helps loosen its grip (Masuda et al., 2009).

And when people practice this skill, research shows something powerful happens. Across all kinds of struggles—anxiety, depression, trauma, workplace stress—people become more psychologically flexible. This means they can sense the noise of thoughts and emotions and still choose actions guided by their values (Zhang et al., 2025).

Now, imagine again the traveler on the road, clutching that heavy book of self-stories. They’ve carried it so tightly for so long—“If I loosen my grip, I’ll lose who I am.”

In ACT, the shift begins with a small move that takes barely a minute (as we move towards understanding what the move is, you’re welcome to test it on your own thoughts).

The move (takes about 60–90 seconds)

1. Catch the identity sentence exactly as it shows up in your mind.
   For our traveler, it sounds like: “If I let go of this book, I won’t be me.”
   
2. Add the ACT prefix—out loud or on paper:
   “I’m having the thought that if I let go of this book, I won’t be me.”
   

Suddenly the sentence isn’t a verdict—it’s text. A story on a page they can notice, not a command they must obey. Research shows that this shift—called defusion—lowers the believability and emotional punch of sticky self-talk more effectively than distraction or suppression (Masuda et al., 2009).

Neuroscience echoes the same: putting feelings or stories into words dampens the amygdala’s alarm response and engages prefrontal regions for regulation (Lieberman, Eisenberger, Crockett, Tom, Pfeifer, & Way, 2007).

3. Choose one micro-action that serves a value—something tiny you can do in under two minutes.
   
   • If you value **kindness**: send a brief, honest message that sets one boundary.
   • If you value **learning**: write a single question you’ll ask tomorrow.
   • If you value **health**: decline one extra task and log it.

ACT research consistently finds that this pairing—defusion plus a values-guided step—is a reliable mechanism of change across settings and struggles (Yu, Zhang, Li, Wang, & Cui, 2025)

Repeat once. You’re not deleting the thought; you’re loosening its grip long enough to act like the person you want to be.

Now, back to our story.

The traveler is learning to hold the book of self-stories more lightly. But here’s the thing: some chapters in the book feel especially dangerous to loosen—because they’ve become fused with identity itself. ACT names these moments, too.

Three places “letting go” feels scary (and what to do)

1) The fixer identity
Our traveler reads: “If I stop fixing everyone’s problems, I’m useless.”

• Defuse: They whisper, “I’m having the thought that not fixing = useless.”
  
• Micro-action: Instead of rushing in to rescue, they offer one option—and then step back.
  
• Why this helps: Compulsive fixing often hides experiential avoidance—a way of escaping the discomfort of not being needed. Research shows reducing avoidance (and increasing flexibility) mediates recovery in anxiety treatments.
  

2) The perfectionist identity
Another page declares: “If I let an imperfect draft go out, I won’t be the careful one.”

• Defuse: “I’m having the thought that shipping ‘good enough’ erases who I am.”
  
• Micro-action: They send the draft anyway—with a brief note on next steps.
  
• Why this helps: Defusion has been shown to reduce the believability of self-critical thoughts. That makes it easier to act from values like contribution and reliability, rather than being ruled by criticism.
  

3) The always-available identity
A heavy line reads: “If I say no, I’ll become selfish.”

• Defuse: “I’m having the thought that saying no equals selfish.”
  
• Micro-action: They decline one request kindly, and then turn to the commitments they’ve already made.
  
• Why this helps: ACT isn’t about erasing roles—it’s about connecting to a steadier vantage point: self-as-context, the observing self that notices roles and identities come and go. Early measurement work is showing this perspective is a core flexibility process.
  

The book hasn’t vanished—the pages are still there. But with each defusion and tiny values-based step, the traveler carries it differently. The stories no longer grip so tightly. And in that space, life starts to expand beyond the lines on the page.

So here’s where the story meets you. Like the traveler, you’ve been carrying your own book—those identity-flavored sentences that grip hard: “If I stop fixing, I’m useless.” / “If I’m not perfect, I’m nothing.” / “If I say no, I’ll be selfish.”

Instead of wrestling with those lines, here’s a mini-practice you can keep—a way of loosening the grip just enough to walk forward with your values.

The Let-Go Log (7-day practice)

For the next week, once a day:

1. Catch one identity sentence that hooked you.
   → Example: “If I don’t push myself harder, I’ll fall behind.”
   
2. Add the ACT prefix:
   → “I’m having the thought that if I don’t push harder, I’ll fall behind.”
   
3. Take one two-minute values action.
   → If you value kindness: send one genuine check-in message.
   → If you value learning: jot a single question to explore.
   → If you value health: step outside and take ten breaths.
   
4. Log the shift.
   → On a scale of 1–10, note how believable the story felt after the move.

You’re not training calm-on-command—you’re training flexibility: the freedom to choose your next step while thoughts keep doing what thoughts do.

And this is more than just a story. These flexibility skills—defusion plus values moves, consistently improve outcomes across conditions, according to meta-analyses and RCT reviews (Monestès et al., 2024).

So for seven days, let’s practice holding the book more lightly. Not tearing out the pages. Just carrying it in a way that frees your hands for what matters most.