The Unseen Power of Rituals in Letting Go of Past Hurts

Letting go of past

Life doesn't always go according to plan. And sometimes, the pivot is the point. In this episode of Women of Color: An Intimate Conversation, host Deneen L. Garrett and producer Oryn Stewart model in real time what it looks like to release control, show up anyway, and let the conversation lead. What unfolded was one of the most honest exchanges of the Execution Series — about healing, presence, purpose, and the wounds we keep picking at when we should be letting them close.

Key Takeaways

• Releasing past hurt requires deliberate action — writing it down and ceremonially letting it go is a proven practice used by both therapists and counselors.
• Unhealed wounds attract more of what hurt you — the scab metaphor is real, and picking at it prolongs the pain.
• Vulnerability is not weakness. Letting someone in — and releasing your expectations of how they respond — is where the real freedom lives.
• Presence is a purpose. Knowing who you are right now matters more than chasing who you think you should become.
• Faith without works is dead. You can pray for change and still have to do the work to make it happen.

Singe It, Burn It, Let It Go

In this episode, Oryn Stewart — counselor, producer, husband, and father of five — shares what it took to truly release control. After relocating his family from Maryland to Texas and surviving a severe COVID battle that left him on oxygen and relearning how to walk, he was forced to surrender in ways he never anticipated. What came out of that season was clarity: there were things he thought he had forgiven, resentments he believed he had released, that were still very much alive inside him. The pivot wasn't just geographic. It was internal.

Both Oryn and Deneen arrived at the same practice independently — writing down what needs to go, then destroying it. Deneen shared that her therapist assigned her this exact homework: write the letter, then go outside and burn it. She did. And Oryn, as a counselor himself, confirmed this is one of the exercises he assigns his own clients. The act of writing externalizes the pain. The act of burning — or ripping, or discarding — signals to your mind and your spirit that it no longer has a home in you. It's not about the other person. It's about freeing yourself from the hold.

The Scab You Keep Picking

Oryn introduced a metaphor that stopped the conversation cold — in the best way. When we skin our knee, a scab forms as a protective layer over the healing skin underneath. But as kids, we pick at it. And we wonder why it takes forever to heal, or why it scars darker than it needed to.

We do the same thing with emotional wounds. We say we've moved on, but we revisit the story. We replay the moment. We rip the scab off every time we get close to healed — and then we attract things to an open wound that were never meant for us. Infection. That's the word he used. An unhealed wound draws in what's harmful, and we end up in cycles — different person, same situation — wondering why it keeps happening. The answer is usually that we never let the first wound close.

The prescription is simple, even if it's not easy: leave it alone. Let the process do what it was designed to do. And when it falls off naturally, you'll be able to see the skin underneath — new, changed, ready.

Presence Is the Purpose

When Deneen asked Oryn whether he was living his purpose, he didn't give a polished answer. He said his purpose right now is to be present. Not to chase the next opportunity. Not to perform. To show up fully — as a husband, a father, a producer, a counselor — wherever he is, in that moment.

That landed. Because presence is something both of them have been actively working toward. Deneen shared that she's been on social media all day, in Claude all night, integrating work and life until there was no real separation — and she's now building intentional boundaries around her time. Not because ambition is wrong. But because you can plan so hard for the future that you forget to actually live today. Rest is in the blueprint. Even creation modeled it.

Do the Work

The episode closed with a challenge that was equally for the audience and for themselves. We say we want change. We pray for it. But then we don't go back and read the PDF someone gave us a month ago. We don't take the steps. We want the result without the process.

Oryn put it plainly: faith without works is dead. If you stay at the bottom of the stairs having faith but never put a foot on a step, you won't make it to the top. The work is the part that requires us to change — and that's exactly why we avoid it. Change is uncomfortable. But the alternative is staying in the same cycle, attracting the same things, wondering why nothing is different.

You already have what you need to begin. Now do something with it.

Listen to the full episode of Women of Color: An Intimate Conversation: "When Life Lifes: A Real-Time Pivot with Oryn Stewart" — and share it with someone who needs to hear it today.

Frequently Asked Questions

What if I don't know what to write in the letter? Start with the feeling, not the facts. You don't have to name a specific event or person. Write what you've been carrying — "I feel like I can't move forward," "I'm still angry about what happened," "I don't know how to let this go." The intention to release is more important than getting the words exactly right.

Does burning the letter actually work? The ritual works because you decide it works. The physical act of destroying what you've written creates a psychological break — it signals to your mind that this is final. If burning isn't accessible or safe, tearing it up and throwing it away carries the same intention. What matters is the commitment behind the action. And please — use a fireproof container, stay away from flammable materials, and don't leave it unattended.

What if I'm vulnerable with someone and they don't respond the way I hoped? Let them respond the way they do. Deneen said it directly in this episode: we have to stop expecting people to respond at a capacity they may not have. Some people will say "I got you." Some will say "girl, I'll call you later." Both are valid. What matters is that you gave yourself permission to be vulnerable. That release happened regardless of how it was received.

How do I know if I'm truly present or just going through the motions? Ask yourself: when someone is talking to me, am I actually listening — or am I composing my response, checking my phone, or thinking about what's next? Presence isn't a feeling, it's a practice. It's a decision you make repeatedly throughout the day to be where your feet are.