She Let Herself Go

What if the unraveling is actually the return?

The many versions of a woman. The polished one is not always the truest one.

I saw The Devil Wears Prada 2 recently and caught a line about how we use clothes to shape others’ perceptions. Since having two kids, I’ve been constantly editing my closet. We wear brands, labels, silhouettes, colors, and signals, hoping people understand us before we speak.

I understand this concept deeply. I started my career in PR and came to understand the strange and very real ways in which presentation shapes opportunity, perception, power, and belonging. Clothing is not frivolous. Style can be art, pleasure, creativity, identity… play. Sometimes, getting dressed is one of the few ways people can express themselves honestly.

I notice how women, especially mothers, are judged for “letting themselves go” or “losing themselves.” This language equates a woman’s value with her ability to maintain societal standards of femininity and effortless appearance, reinforcing the pressure to perform rather than authentically express.

This brings me to a passage from Martha Beck’s The Way of Integrity, where she writes about “hustling” — all the ways we perform versions of ourselves to secure approval, safety, love, or status. Not just at work, but everywhere. In beauty, parenting, relationships, wellness, and identity itself.

Anything done solely to influence others rather than express your true nature, she argues, becomes a kind of hustle.

Building on this idea, many women (raise hand) are tired from the invisible labor of staying legible, likable, and desirable. If you feel worn out by the constant demands, you are not alone. We’re exhausted by managing perception, pretending to handle life well, and constantly performing competence, desirability, balance, motherhood, relevance, ambition, health, style, self-awareness, and discipline, all while staying calm. Modern womanhood is endless perception management, a shared struggle so many of us face in silence.

And the internet has only intensified it. Online, coherence is rewarded. Clean aesthetics, strong points of view, and consistent identity translate into a recognizable “personal brand.” Now seems like a perfect time to remember: we are people, not brands. Real lives are contradictory, cyclical, messy, and constantly changing.

Sometimes “letting yourself go” is actually reclaiming authenticity after years of performative identity for others. Women and mothers can love fashion, yet tire of public beauty standards, and opt out without meaning they’ve “given up.”

If this resonates, try a simple exercise: spend a few moments in front of your wardrobe and notice what clothes you naturally reach for in this season. Which items make you feel comfortable, true to yourself, or simply at ease, regardless of trends or others’ expectations? Let yourself wear something today that aligns with your real mood, not just your projected image. Sometimes, the first step toward authenticity is this small act of noticing and honoring what feels right for you.

Integrity may not look aspirational. It often departs from cultural ideals, signaling true self over polished image. It doesn’t always look polished or photograph well. Sometimes integrity looks like opting out of a performance you no longer wish to maintain, thus less legible to others.

I like getting dressed. I love beauty and aesthetics. But I no longer organize my life around managing perception. And maybe what some people call “letting yourself go” is actually returning to yourself.

A life with less performance. Less fear.

If that’s what letting go looks like, maybe it’s exactly what we need.

---

I’m Myleik. I advise and support people building lives and careers and trying to build deeper trust with themselves while they do it.

I write about what I’m learning and noticing in real time. If you’d like support in your own process, you can work with me 1:1 or join Bring Your Work, my live coaching community.