Between the Covers: ‘Let Them’ by Mel Robbins (Chapters 3–9)

By Melanie Chance

When I read chapters 1 and 2 of Let Them last week, it felt like Mel Robbins had leaned across the table, looked me in the eye, and said, “Melanie, you’ve got to stop trying to control what isn’t yours to control.” That alone was a lot to process.

But this week, diving into chapters 3 through 9? She didn’t just give me advice — she handed me a whole toolbox. Not for fixing other people, but for building boundaries so solid you could hang a door on them.

The thing is, these chapters aren’t gentle. They’re the kind of truths you may not want to hear — but desperately need to. The kind that makes you stop mid-page, stare off into space, and think, “Ouch. That’s me.”

Chapter 4 is where she gets real about how valuable our energy is. Mel says flat out: your energy is currency, and not everyone deserves to spend it. That’s not just a cute line for Instagram; it’s a whole way of living.

She challenges you (and me) to take inventory: Who leaves you feeling lighter after you’re around them? Who leaves you feeling smaller? And here’s the gut-check — if you keep feeling small around someone, why are you still giving them the same access to your life?

This isn’t about cutting people out in anger. It’s about quietly — but firmly — deciding where your energy is best spent. I had to sit with that one. Because the truth is, I’ve kept doors wide open for people who’ve done nothing but drain me, simply because it was easier than closing them.

Then came chapter 7, and friends, it was like she had been eavesdropping on my life. Mel makes a bold statement: “Every grown-up is just an 8-year-old in a big body. Most of us were never taught emotional regulation, so we act out instead.”

She explains that when kids throw tantrums, they slam doors, cry, or stomp their feet. When adults throw tantrums? They go silent. They give you the cold shoulder. They pretend nothing’s wrong while making sure you feel every ounce of their disapproval.

Here’s the part that made me put the book down for a minute: “Silent treatment is what an immature adult does when they’re upset and they don’t know how to process their emotions healthily and respectfully.”

If you’ve ever been on the receiving end, you know how much it can mess with your head. You replay every conversation. You second-guess yourself. You bend over backwards to make peace, while they get to avoid owning their feelings entirely.

Mel’s advice? Don’t chase the silence. Let them have their grown-up tantrum. Let me set a boundary, decide how much access they get, and walk away if I need to. She’s right — it’s not about punishing them back, it’s about refusing to get pulled into the game.

And she’s crystal clear on this: “Children need emotional dependency. Adults don’t.” That hit me square in the chest. Because if you’re in a relationship — any relationship—where you’re constantly tiptoeing to keep someone else emotionally stable, you’re parenting them, not partnering with them.

By the time I reached chapter 9, I thought I’d survived the hard stuff. Nope. That’s where she talks about comparison, and she does not sugarcoat it.

She calls it one of the most common ways we self-sabotage. When we measure our life against someone else’s highlight reel, we’re handing over our joy for free. I’ll admit, I’ve done it more times than I’d like to count.

But here’s the shift she offers: “Comparison can be your greatest teacher if you stop using it as a weapon against yourself.” Instead of thinking, “Why don’t I measure up?” ask, “What can I learn from what I admire in them?”

That’s not easy. It’s much simpler to stew in jealousy or self-pity than to use comparison as a mirror for growth. But if you can make that flip, comparison stops being a thief and starts being a guide.

These chapters also remind us that loyalty can be misplaced. Companies make business decisions without a second thought — why do we feel guilty doing the same for our own well-being? Let them make their choices. Let me make mine.

And in family life, Robbins is unflinching: love does not mean control. Let your adult kids make their choices — even the ones that make you want to scream into a pillow. Let relatives disagree with you. Let people be who they are, and focus on becoming who you want to be.

By the end of chapter 9, I realized this book isn’t just about saying “let them” — it’s about “let me.” Let me release the illusion that I can manage other people’s emotions. Let me stop carrying people who won’t meet me halfway. Let me let go without giving up.

What I’m carrying into this week is Robbins’ question: If you stop trying to change them, what could you finally start changing for yourself?

Next week, we will move into chapters 10 through 15, where she shows us how to turn comparison into learning, navigate the shifting seasons of adult friendships, and influence others without pressure. It’s about growing, choosing connections that strengthen you instead of drain you — because protecting your peace is not just a choice, it’s how you live well.