You know that friend who can’t seem to get out of her own way? The one who finds criticism in every compliment, and moves through her day collecting tiny, unnecessary stressors like Pac-Man gobbling up pellets? Hello. I’m that friend. It’s true, if overthinking were a sport, I’d have a lucrative sponsorship deal by now, and I know I’m not alone in this. Between the juggle of working, motherhood, the weight of emotional caretaking, and the increasingly merciless pressure to be everything to everyone, most of us are running towards some vague, ever-moving target – no wonder we’re exhausted!
Enter motivational speaker Mel Robbins with her now ubiquitous Let Them Theory. The premise? Suspiciously simple. Instead of trying to control other people’s choices, you just step back, “let them”, and protect your own peace. It all kicked off in mid-2023 with a viral TikTok. It then exploded across social media, podcasts and, eventually, into a bestselling book, co-written with her daughter, Sawyer.
Now, if you’re wondering how an idea that basically boils down to “you do you, and I’ll do me” could fill more than 300 pages, so was I. But two years into the hype with no sign of slowing – and a few pages into The Let Them Theory, where Mel promises it will “change absolutely everything” – I figured it was time to put it to the test. For two weeks, I would stop managing the emotional landscape around me. I would just … let them. And? It’s easier said than done.
The experiment
Mel’s 20 chapters span everything from relationships to accepting life’s many injustices, but I focused on the three big lessons that resonated most. And conveniently for our purposes, my fortnight played out like a carousel of small frictions. A good friend went mysteriously quiet. A huge career loss came back to haunt me. And my well-worn insecurities about how others think of me hit fever pitch. In other words, a very fertile ground for experimentation.
Lesson one: Let adults be adults
The crux of Mel’s theory is about developing healthier relationships through emotional boundaries. Basically, stop managing everyone else’s feelings and just “let me” handle my own. She suggests assuming most adults have the emotional intelligence of an eight-year-old, and honestly, I can name a few who fit the brief. But this is definitely not how I see most people in my world.
Where she has me pegged is my tendency to “over function” in friendships. I’m constantly reading the room, predicting moods and smoothing over imaginary upsets. So, when I noticed a change in a friend’s usually constant contact, instead of spending the next six hours decoding her behaviour like a cryptic crossword, I simply … let her. Wild, I know. And while Mel makes this sound embarrassingly simple, my nervous system just didn’t seem to get the memo. I was, once again, marinating in discomfort.
Lesson two: Make comparison your teacher
While not something I like to shout from the rooftops, I often struggle with professional comparison. Mel’s take? Comparison can be either torturer or teacher. Use it to spot where your ambitions lie, then get curious about what the people you envy actually did to get there.
She argues that jealousy often comes from knowing we could have taken similar steps. So why not use their formula as a road map instead of a reason to spiral? This actually makes a lot of sense. So, I opened my Notes app, titled a page “The Formula”, and started listing the steps that I saw successful people taking. And, surprisingly, this one worked straightaway. I really felt the shift from jealousy to motivation.
Lesson three: Stop trying to control what others think
My endocrinologist once told me I “likely operate on a high level of adrenaline”. According to Mel, I’m not alone, and my overthinking is likely the reason I’m so tired and stressed out. I’m constantly trying to control what others think of me. I can sense a shift in someone’s tone from three suburbs away! The antidote? Let them (obviously).
Mel describes the problem with “moving through your life with other people’s opinions as your road map”, explaining how simply letting others think whatever they want helped her get out of her own way and start promoting her speaking business. This part hit me square in the ego, because despite needing to show up online for work, I post on my Instagram feed about as often as I clean out my car, instead sticking to Instagram stories I know will disappear within a day.
So, I did the uncomfortable thing, regularly posting across Instagram and LinkedIn. And? It was uncomfortable. My heart sprinted each time. But I did it. And according to Mel, while that stress response is automatic, it will ease with practice (news my doctor will be thrilled to hear).
The results
Here’s the thing; old patterns don’t resolve with a quick mindset shift. Our brains are brilliantly plastic, but if I can’t run a marathon after one jog, then I also can’t unlearn decades of overthinking in a fortnight. Mel does acknowledge this, urging you to keep doing the uncomfortable thing until it sticks. But her repeated promises of a near-instant transformation had me wondering if I’d missed a chapter.
A common criticism of the theory is that it’s a road map to accepting poor behaviour. But for me, the takeaway was simpler and more grounding. Mel says, “When you operate in a way that makes you proud of yourself, it doesn’t matter what other people think,” and that feels genuinely empowering.
Final word
My initial resistance to the theory was its simplicity. If a simple self-help strategy was life-changing to me, doesn’t that make me kind of … well, simple? Unremarkable? But simple things stick. Complex psychological frameworks are great for research and deep dedicated work, but a simple catchphrase you can lean on in times of heightened emotion is golden.
After two weeks on a strict diet of Mel Robbins’ wisdom – and despite her often hyperbolic enthusiasm – I did emerge calmer. Mel’s book champions grace, compassion and a radical acceptance that the only person you have control over is yourself. Will I keep using it? I think so. Not flawlessly, but enough to catch myself before I start slipping into old habits of “over functioning”. Maybe that’s the magic of this whole thing. Choosing peace over perfection. Let me just be me. And let that be enough.
This article originally appeared in the February 2026 issue of The Australian Women’s Weekly. Subscribe so you never miss an issue.
