I Let Go (A Little) And The World Didn’t End

Just last week, we had just buckled up for a long drive windows down, breeze in our hair, that perfect golden-hour glow. I was already buzzing with excitement, mentally queuing up my go-to playlist, ready to be the DJ of our little road trip like always. I synced my Bluetooth with the car’s and was about to play the first song that I was looking forward to listen.

And then my sister said,
“Can I play the music today?”

I froze.
Wait, what?
Play it cool, I told myself. But inside, it felt like suddenly I was off balance.

This was supposed to be my thing.
My vibe. My curation.

And in that one innocent ask, something stirred deep inside me.
Why did it feel so hard to just hand over the playlist?
Was it really about the music or was it something else?
A quiet need to control the moment, to script the experience, to avoid the unexpected.
Maybe, deep down, it wasn’t about the songs at all.
Maybe it was about me not knowing who I am when I’m not in control. But why did I sought control? or for that matter why does anyone seek control?

Because control feels safe.
Because when we know what’s coming, we feel prepared. Protected.
Because unpredictability brings discomfort, and discomfort feels like danger even when it’s not.
So we plan. We overthink. We grip tightly to routines, people, playlists anything that gives us the illusion of certainty.

And letting go? That feels terrifying. Like standing in the middle of a foggy road with no map and no idea what’s coming next.

If you feel that too, trust me you’re not alone.
I’m right there with you.

I’m the kind of person who needs to know exactly what song is coming up next.
Not just because I like music no, no, it’s deeper than that. It’s about curating every second of my experience, so I never have to deal with the unknown.

I then reflected that maybe that’s the reason I carry earphones all the time with me because they serve as an emotional emergency kit.
If someone else plays music in the car? I retreat into my own bubble.

In that moment, I felt this strange tug in my chest.
A quiet question: What am I so scared of?

So I decided to try something different.
One small shift.

I unpaired my Bluetooth.
Didn’t touch my earphones.
Didn’t ask what playlist we were listening to.

I let go.
Just a little.

And you know what happened?

Nothing catastrophic.
No emotional meltdown.
No existential crisis.

Instead, I sat in that unfamiliar song.
And weirdly… I enjoyed it.
I felt the discomfort, sure. That itch of not being in control.
But the world didn’t end.
I actually felt more alive.

Turns out, it's not the unknown that's scary.
It's our anticipation of it. The story we tell ourselves before anything even happens.
That's what creates panic.
So we run back to familiarity even when it no longer fits us.

But growth doesn’t live in the comfort zone.
It lives in the surrender.
In the car rides where you don’t control the music.
In the moments where you say, “Okay life, surprise me.”

So this week, I practiced letting go.
In small, invisible ways.
Not as a grand gesture, but as a quiet rebellion against fear.

And I’ll ask you the same question I asked myself:
Where in your life are you clinging to control, even though it’s holding you back?

Maybe today, you can let go just a little.
Let the song play.
Let the unknown in.
Let life surprise you.

It might just be the start of your new favorite tune.