Sometimes I feel like Dory from “Finding Nemo.” I learn my lesson time and time again, only to always return to the same genius revelations. I came to this realization recently when I had to cut someone from my life, a task that is never easy.

This time around, I went back and reflected on what had worked for me in the past, and, shockingly, it was the things I didn’t do this time that helped me let go. My refined method? Stop venting and giving any energy to the issue, no matter how small.

Let me start by prefacing that I’m not telling you not to talk about your problems. That’s silly. There are plenty of embarrassing moments I face when I’m by myself. For example, I’m clumsy, so I’m always tripping and falling. I always follow these incidents up by calling someone. At the beginning of last year, I fell on my way to a lecture. I spilled the matcha I was holding all over me and tore a part of my leggings. Horrified, I didn’t know what to do, so I called my bestie right away.

A week ago, I quite literally rolled on my way to work and tore my jeans. I immediately called my friend on campus. After telling one person, I was able to move on.

Those situations are simple, but reacting by telling someone and moving on can apply to other, more complicated aspects of life as well. I used to be someone who thought talking about an issue a million times would change the outcome — and I am still sometimes that person. My best friend and I once decided that what one of us couldn’t solve, the other one could, which led us to overanalyze all our problems, big or small. But this can be problematic — evidenced by the big friendship breakup I went through.

I was close friends with someone for three years in middle school and into high school, and we fought over everything. These arguments were so long that we had to click the message on iMessage and scroll to read them. I thought I didn’t have closure, but in retrospect, I did. All those fights, all the animosity, all the bad days should have been enough. Naturally, my best friend and I talked about this issue day and night. We established a routine that we now love to laugh about — we did our homework, ate dinner and then spent a casual three to four hours talking about our individual problems until we got tired and went to bed.

Next thing we knew, so much time had passed, and the problem still weighed on us. We did eventually get over it, but did it take way longer than it needed to? Yes.

You’d think I would learn not to vent so much. Maybe all the hours I spent trying to find a new perspective were only because I didn’t want to accept the truth. I’m glad to say that, now, instead of a calm four to six months, I can pretty much get over most things in a week or two, max.

Fast-forwarding to college, I was faced with another situation. My roommate, best friend and I all went through a similar situation recently about letting go of someone we liked and then getting our hopes up without our feelings being reciprocated. I talked everyone’s ear off about this situation until I realized it was all I wanted to talk about. I am not too high and mighty to admit it — I felt pathetic.

I came back to the conclusion I always eventually come to — stop bringing it up. I told myself that I am never going to sound so much more passionate about something bad in my life and let it outweigh all the good.

On the contrary, my roommate talked about the situation from the second we woke up in the morning, to when we were getting ready before bed. At this point, we were weeks out from our big disappointment, and she still wanted to find a missing piece to the problem. She would jolt up to tell someone what had happened to her, seeking reassurance that it was okay for her to feel upset.

It takes one to know one. I understand exactly why she did this. She was speaking from a place of betrayal and confusion. She wanted relief, reassurance and a sense of connection to the situation, but this was actually holding her back.

Our venting was habitual, but my friends once said something that struck while we were ranting.

“You really find time to be sad about someone,” they told me. “You work, you study, you’re in clubs — you genuinely put conscious effort into feeding this problem.”

I was silenced. My friends were right. I kept ruminating about an issue that genuinely had no end, and that’s what my roommate and best friend were stuck on as well. Who knows why someone stopped talking to us? And who cares? The difference between my friends and I was only that I had stopped talking about it.

Maybe I was still upset, but you couldn’t pry that information out of me anymore.

It makes sense that when you don’t understand something, or more frankly, when you don’t want to accept something, you seek to be heard. But seeking validation on the same problems time and time again is just feeding a parasite. Superficially, it can feel healing to keep talking to gain new perspectives, but, as my best friend tells me, at some point you have to stand on a decision.

The most important takeaway is not to let problems in one area of your life leak onto other facets of it. If it’s a career problem, don’t let it seep into your relationships and vice versa. I would hate to see myself harp on things I hate more than I can speak to things that I love. That would be a disservice to who I am.

If you’re going to let go, stand on it. If you’re going to go crazy about it, stand on it. Stand on something and keep living.

Gisselle Tapia is a sophomore majoring in psychology. 

Views expressed in the opinions pages represent the opinions of the columnists. The only piece that represents the view of the Pipe Dream Editorial Board is the Staff Editorial.