Letting Go Isn’t Losing: Understanding the Sunk Cost Fallacy in Our Healing Journeys

Letting Go Isn’t Losing: Understanding the Sunk Cost Fallacy in Our Healing Journeys

Photo by Chelsey Faucher on Unsplash

You’ve already given so much.

Time. Energy. Years. Pieces of your heart. Maybe even parts of yourself you didn’t know you were allowed to keep.

So the thought of walking away—from a marriage, a long-standing friendship, a role at church, a dream you once held sacred—feels unbearable. Like failure. Like waste. Like betrayal.

But what if it isn’t?

What if staying—only because you’ve invested so deeply—is what’s quietly keeping you stuck?

This is the quiet trap of the sunk cost fallacy, a psychological pattern where we feel obligated to keep pouring into something, simply because we already have—even when it’s no longer healthy, holy, or true to who we’re becoming.

What Is the Sunk Cost Fallacy?

In economic terms, a “sunk cost” is a past investment that can’t be recovered. But in real life, especially for women shaped by duty, sacrifice, and sometimes misapplied theology, sunk costs sound more like:

• “I’ve been in this marriage for 20 years—I can’t walk away now.”

• “We’ve been friends since college. She’s family. Even if it hurts, I can’t just stop talking to her.”

• “I’ve built my whole life around this role. Who even am I without it?”

• “I’ve already spent a decade praying for change. It has to work eventually, right?”

When we operate from this space, we’re letting our past shape our present and silence our future. We’re clinging to what was, even if it’s slowly eroding who we are.

Why It’s So Hard to Walk Away (Especially for Christian Women)

Let’s be honest—this isn’t just about logic. It’s about grief. About identity. And often, about the spiritual guilt that comes from teachings that have been twisted or poorly applied.

You might have been told:

• “God hates divorce.”

• “True love never gives up.”

• “Be patient in suffering—it’s your cross to bear.”

And maybe no one ever told you that it’s okay to walk away from destruction, even if it wears the mask of loyalty.

Maybe no one reminded you that Jesus confronted dysfunction, withdrew from harm, and never once asked a woman to lose herself in order to prove her faith.

The grief that comes with letting go is complex:

• Grieving the years you can’t get back.

• Grieving who you were when you still believed it would change.

• Grieving the version of the relationship you longed for but never really had.

And that grief is valid.

But so is the longing for peace.

Letting go is painful. But so is staying in a space that dishonors your soul. One is the pain of release. The other is the pain of self-abandonment. Only one leads to healing.

Signs You May Be Caught in a Sunk Cost Trap

You might be operating from a sunk cost mindset if you…

• Feel pressure to “stick it out” just because of how much time or effort you’ve given.

• Keep telling yourself it would all be wasted if you walk away now.

• Feel like starting over would make you look foolish—or unfaithful.

• Experience guilt or spiritual fear when imagining life beyond this relationship.

• Say things like, “I’ve come too far to quit now,” even though your peace has been gone for years.

None of these thoughts make you weak. They’re signs that you’ve tried, loved, hoped, and carried more than anyone saw.

And still—they are not reasons to stay where your heart keeps breaking.

What You Deserve to Know

I want you to hear this clearly:

You are not required to stay in suffering simply because you've survived there a long time.

You’re allowed to say:

“That mattered to me. I tried my best. And now, it’s time to choose healing.”

You are not wasteful.
You are not weak.
You are not betraying your faith by choosing peace.

You are returning to yourself—and that is sacred.

A Gentle Practice for Letting Go

If you feel caught in the tension of “Do I stay, or do I go?”—try this simple, reflective practice:

1. Name what you’ve given.
   Write it out. The years. The sacrifices. The hopes. Honor them.

2. Acknowledge what it’s costing you now.
   Is it your peace? Your health? Your voice? Be honest.

3. Visualize who you might become if you released this burden.
   What would soften? What would awaken? What space could open?

4. Breathe this in:
   Peace is a valid reason to change your mind.
   Peace is a holy reason to begin again.

For the Woman Who Thinks It’s Too Late

Maybe you're 55 and feel like the window has closed.
Maybe you're newly divorced and wondering who you are now.
Maybe you’ve been the “strong one” for so long, you're terrified of what might surface if you finally let yourself grieve.

But hear me:
It is never too late to choose yourself.
It is never too late to heal.
It is never too late to rewrite the rest of the story.

Doing your emotional work now doesn’t make you foolish. It makes you wise. It makes you brave. It makes you a woman who believes that wholeness is still available.

Because it is.

You’re Not Losing. You’re Letting Go.

You’re not abandoning your past.
You’re blessing it—and choosing not to let it dictate your future.
You’re not giving up.
You’re giving back to yourself what was always meant to be yours:
Peace.
Clarity.
Freedom.

And if it still feels too hard to believe, that’s okay.

I’ll believe it for you until you can believe it for yourself.

With gentleness and grace,
Charlene