The Nursing Bra – Why We Hold Onto Things Long After We Need Them
Unlearning can be hard.
The Reckoning
When I started the Bra Challenge, I knew I’d have to face some hard personal truths—and by that, I mean, I would have to publicly admit that I was still wearing nursing bras… despite the fact that my children are old enough to explain long division.
It wasn’t because I was clinging to some romanticized vision of my kids as babies. Nope. It was comfort. Pure, glorious, stretchy, no-pressure, who cares if I move a little and nothing stays in place comfort.
And then it hit me: Oh no. I am about to tell people on the internet about this.
At that moment, I had two choices:
Finesse the truth. Maybe say something vague about “outgrowing certain items.”
Go full hog. Own up to the fact that I had been clinging to something I had no business holding onto for years.
I chose option 2.
And that’s when it clicked.
This wasn’t just about a bra.
This was about refusing to let go of things that no longer serve us.
This was about teaching. About coaching. About classrooms.
Have You Ever Coached a Teacher Who Was Still Gripping Onto Something That No Longer Worked?
A classroom system that fell apart when the kids outgrew it
A discipline strategy that used to be effective but is now just frustrating for everyone
A planning style that worked for last year’s group but is completely failing with this one
Just like my nursing bras, these systems once served a purpose. But now? They’re holding us back.
The First Test of My Commitment
The next night—literally DAY TWO of this so-called challenge—I was getting ready for my Saturday alley cat hangout.
Now, this is not just any casual get-together. This is the pinnacle of my week. My dream scenario of family, friends, games, ridiculous food, Kimber, and the kind of laughter that shakes the walls.
As I stood in my room, getting dressed for peak comfort mode, my hand instinctively reached for the one true item that would guarantee ultimate relaxation and ease.
🚨 THE NURSING BRA. 🚨
Except—it wasn’t there.
I had thrown it away.
Suddenly, I was faced with a reckoning of epic proportions.
What had I done?
Who was I without this bra?
Could I even enjoy my perfect, silly, cozy night if I had to wear a real bra?
Was this going to be my first big failure in this challenge?
This was not just about a bra anymore. This was about loss. About transition. About who I was becoming.
I had let go—but I wasn’t yet ready for what came next.
Why We Cling to What No Longer Serves Us
It turns out, letting go is a full psychological process, and I had apparently decided to speed-run it in 48 hours over a drawer of bras.
Psychologists say we struggle with letting go because:
We associate certain things with identity. (Who am I without this thing?)
The unknown is scarier than what we already know, even if what we know is falling apart.
We don’t trust that we can be just as happy (or happier) without it.
My nursing bras weren’t just bras. They were certainty, familiarity, safety.
They were a metaphor for every outdated identity we struggle to shed.
Because we all have something we’ve held onto for way too long.
Key Idea: Change feels threatening to the brain because it disrupts cognitive ease and habit loops.
It Happens in Teaching, Too
Letting go of a comfortable (but ineffective) teaching practice is just as hard as throwing out an old, worn-out, stretched-out bra.
It’s not just a matter of logic—it’s human psychology.
Research in habit formation, behavior change, and cognitive psychology explains why teachers struggle to move on from ineffective practices—even when they know it’s the right choice. Whether it’s a classroom management system, an instructional strategy, or a belief about student learning, the process of unlearning follows predictable psychological patterns.
We Grieve the Loss—Even If It Was Bad for Us
Even the most motivated and skilled teachers struggle to abandon familiar but ineffective practices because the brain perceives change as a loss before it registers as an opportunity.
Kahneman and Tversky’s (1979) Prospect Theory demonstrates that humans fear losses twice as much as they value equivalent gains, a concept known as loss aversion.
That means if you tell a teacher, “This new strategy will improve student engagement by 20%,” they’ll smile and nod. But if you say, “You need to stop doing this thing you’ve always done,” their brain will treat that change as a personal threat—like you just said, “Hand over your keys and find a new way home.”
In other words, when you offer something new, teachers are thinking not about what they’re gaining, but about what they’re leaving behind. Even if the old way never actually worked, it was familiar, and that familiarity creates a false sense of security.
We Fear the Unknown (What If the New Strategy Fails?)
Bridges' Transition Model (1991) describes how individuals experience change as an “ending” before they can fully embrace a new beginning.
The unknown is uncomfortable.
A teacher who has relied on whole-class lectures for years might understand that increasing student collaboration is better for engagement—but that doesn’t stop them from fearing what happens if students don’t participate or if they lose control of the room.
This fear isn’t irrational—it’s the brain doing what it was designed to do: avoid uncertainty.
A study by Herry et al. (2007) found that the amygdala, the brain’s fear center, activates more intensely in response to uncertain threats than to known ones.
This means that even if a new strategy has clear research backing, the simple fact that it’s unfamiliar can trigger an outsized fear response, making teachers want to retreat back to what feels safe.
This Was Never About the Bra
When teachers resist change, it’s not just about the new method—it’s about the psychological challenge of unlearning something deeply ingrained.
Loss aversion, fear of the unknown, cognitive biases, and identity attachment all play a role in why even great teachers hesitate to move forward. It’s not just about the strategy. It’s about grieving the loss, facing uncertainty, questioning past experiences, and redefining identity.
That’s not stubbornness.
That’s human nature.
Because the real fear isn’t about letting go—it’s about trusting that what comes next will be better.
Sometimes, you have to throw away the thing that no longer serves you… before you even feel fully prepared to be without it. And no, they don’t get to dig it out of the trash (more on this later).
Action Step
Listen for:
“I’ve always done it this way.”
“This used to work just fine.”
“But I’m comfortable with this.”
Ask them:
"Are you keeping this strategy because it works… or just because you’re scared of what happens without it?
Relatable!!! 🩷