The Coat We've Outgrown – Old Patterns, Old Roles – Can We Really Let Them Go?
- Krisztina Gurics
- Nov 1, 2024
- 4 min read
The silence of winter is not only a time for remembering but also a chance to reconnect with ourselves. What roles are we still wearing that we’ve already outgrown? And how can we truly let them go? Some thoughts on conscious choice, change, and the quiet possibility of inner freedom.

As November settles in, winter arrives with its stillness—a season of turning inward. It's not just a time to remember our loved ones who have passed; it’s an invitation to pause and reflect. Especially now, the energy of the season supports us in looking within and becoming aware of those old habits, mindsets, or emotional programs that are ready to be released.
We hear the word "letting go" everywhere, don’t we? It almost sounds easy. As if we could simply drop all the thoughts, emotions, stories, and habits we’ve carried for years. “Just let it go…” But how?
Honesty
That’s the first step—honesty with ourselves. Taking a clear-eyed look at our lives, our relationships, and how we relate to different areas—our self-image, family, romantic partnerships, work.
Ask yourself:
What am I doing, saying, thinking, or keeping alive that doesn't support the life I actually want to live?
What brings me down instead of lifting me up? What makes me feel sad, angry, stuck?
Most of us get this far. But then something happens. We stop.
We either:
Turn inward with harsh judgment: “What’s wrong with me?” “Why can’t I just move on?” “I’ve known this for years—why haven’t I changed yet?”
Or:
We blame others. Our parents. Our past. Our circumstances. “It’s because of what happened when I was a child…” “Because of the divorce…” And so we resign ourselves to the story. We accept that this is how things are.
We start to wear our wounds as identity. We give ourselves (and others) labels that lock us in place. They become a part of how we see ourselves. And those identities become hard to let go—because we think that’s who we are.
But what if they’re just roles? Just patterns. Just a coat we’ve long since outgrown. And what if we could simply take it off?
Yes, it takes work. But it’s possible. We can change. At any age.
Of course, letting go of old habits isn’t easy. They’ve given us a sense of safety, even when they no longer serve us. They form the framework of a familiar life. Even if we know, deep down, that they’re not helping us grow, they’ve been a kind of map.
And stepping into the unknown? That’s scary. Letting go of something always means stepping into something new. “But what will happen then?”—we ask. And with the question comes the quiet anxiety in our belly.
Often, we only make real change when things get so tight, so uncomfortable, that we can’t breathe anymore. When staying the same becomes harder than leaping into the unknown. Sometimes, it takes a health scare—a diagnosis that feels like a final warning.
Strategy
After honesty comes strategy. Once we see clearly where we are and what no longer fits, we can start to map out steps toward the life we truly want—the one that fills us with joy and purpose.
We ask: What daily thoughts, habits, and actions support that vision? And which ones don’t? Am I doing the things that move me forward?
Decision
And then, the choice. After all this awareness and insight, a decision must be made. Until we choose, everything just stirs inside us.
One of the most sobering thoughts I encountered in my own years of avoidance was this: Not deciding is also a decision.I felt the weight of every year I had spent standing still when I first heard that.
Once we see the path clearly, it’s worth choosing. Every decision is a test drive—a way to see where it leads. And we’re always allowed to recalibrate, again and again.
To me, consciousness means taking time to examine our conflicts and challenges. To look at our role in them—and others’ roles too. To ask: How did we get here?
One of the deepest freedoms in conscious living is the ability to witness a situation from a wider, clearer perspective. For a moment, we can step outside our pain, our resentment, our guilt, and see things with more space and compassion.
We may begin to recognize our own reactions and patterns—the ones that often aren’t about the current moment at all, but rather the voice of our wounded inner child.
Consciousness doesn’t mean life will never hurt. It doesn’t mean we’ll let go of everything with ease. But it does mean we’ll become capable of seeing others more clearly—not just through the lens of pain.
We’ll begin to see the intention behind their actions—their best attempt, even if it hurt us.
And we’ll come to understand the roots of our own choices too. The emotional buttons we keep pressing. The old scripts we’re still acting out.
Awareness is a gift. To ourselves.
It opens the door to a life of greater peace and truth.
It invites deeper relationships—with ourselves and with others—grounded not in fear or defensiveness, but in empathy, openness, and genuine, heart-led love.