Why Do I Feel the Need to Control Everything?

Maybe control isn't the problem.

You notice yourself planning ahead.

Thinking through what could go wrong.

Wanting to know what  someone is going to do

before they do it.

Wanting to know what  someone is going to do

before they do it.

Feeling frustrated when plans suddenly change.

Maybe you replay conversations.

Prepare for possibilities that haven't happened.

Step in when someone else is doing something

differently than you would.

Want an answer before there is one.

And somewhere along the way, you may have

started describing yourself as controlling.

Maybe someone else has described you that way

too.

But what if we didn't begin there?

What if, instead of deciding that your need for

control is something you need to fix, we became

curious about what you are

actually calling control?

What becomes possible when you know what

is  going to happen?

And perhaps more interestingly:

What happens when you don't?

That is a very different place to begin.

BEGIN WITH WHAT YOU NOTICE

Think about the moments when you are most

likely  to describe yourself as controlling.

Not your entire life.

Just ordinary moments.

Someone changes the plan.

Someone doesn't respond when you expected

them to.

You are waiting for an answer.

Someone else is responsible for something that

matters to you.

You have a particular way you want something

done.

Something isn't happening as quickly as you

would  like.

You don't know what is going to happen next.

What do you notice yourself doing?

Maybe you make another plan.

Send another text.

Check again.

Ask another question.

Take over.

Think through every possible outcome.

Try to make a decision.

Perhaps you simply become uncomfortable.

There is no need to decide what any of this

means.

For now, just notice:

These are some of the experiences I have been

 calling control.

WHAT IF CONTROL ISN'T ONE

THING?

We use the word control as though everyone

knows exactly what it means.

But look at how much of everyday life involves

trying to influence what happens next.

You set an alarm because you want to wake up at

a  particular time.

You make a reservation because you want a

table  when you arrive.

You look at the weather before leaving the

house.

You create a budget because you want to

participate with where your money goes.

You make plans.

You lock your doors.

You schedule appointments.

You tell someone what you need.

You prepare.

You organize.

You make choices today based on what you

believe  might happen tomorrow.

Are all of those things control?

Maybe.

But if they are, then control itself may not tell us

very much.

Perhaps what matters is the relationship we have

with it.

WHEN DOES IT BECOME

“CONTROLLING”?

This is where language gets interesting.

You probably don't describe yourself as

controlling  every time you put something on

your calendar.

So when does planning become controlling?

When does preparing become controlling?

When does wanting something become

‍controlling?

When does asking become controlling?

When does trying to influence an outcome

become controlling?

And who decided where that line is?

You?

Someone else?

A past relationship?

Your family?

Something you've read?

A therapist?

Social media?

A moment when someone told you:

You always have to be in control.

Sometimes a word becomes a description.

Then, without realizing it, the description becomes

 an identity.

I am controlling.

Once that happens, we may stop looking at the

individual experiences altogether.

We already have an explanation for them.

That's just how I am.

But a label can sometimes hide as much as it

reveals.

LOOK AT THE MOMENT, NOT THE

LABEL

Imagine two people planning the same trip.

One books the hotel six months ahead.

The other books it the night before leaving.

Which one is controlling?

We don't actually have enough information to

 know.

Maybe neither.

Maybe both.

Maybe the person who planned six months

ahead  genuinely enjoys planning.

Maybe the person who waited until the night

before spent six months worrying about making

 the wrong choice.

The behavior alone doesn't tell us the entire

story.

Now bring that back to yourself.

Instead of beginning with:

Why am I so controlling?

What happens if you begin with:

What am I actually doing right now?

Planning?

Preparing?

Predicting?

Organizing?

Waiting?

Checking?

Asking?

Choosing?

Trying to influence something?

Trying to make something happen?

Trying to keep something from happening?

Notice how quickly one large label begins

becoming a collection of very different

experiences.

You don't have to decide whether any of them

are good or bad.

You are simply getting more specific about what

is  actually happening.

YOU MAY BE LOOKING AT A MAP

We all develop ways of navigating life.

We learn how much preparation feels useful.

How much information we like before making a

decision.

How comfortable we are when plans change.

How far ahead we prefer to look.

How much responsibility we want to hold.

How easily we allow someone else to choose.

Those become part of the map we use to move

through the world.

And maps can be useful.

The interesting part begins when we realize:

The map is not the landscape.

Something that once seemed obvious may

deserve   another look.

Something you've called control for years may

contain more than one thing.

Something you've been trying to stop doing may

not need to be judged before it can be

understood.

And something you've considered simply part of

your personality may actually be worth

becoming curious about.

MAYBE THE QUESTION HAS

CHANGED

You arrived here with a question:

Why do I feel the need to control everything?

Maybe you still have that question.

You don't need to answer it yet.

But perhaps there are some new questions

sitting   beside it now.

What do I actually mean by control?

Which moments do I label as controlling?

What am I doing in those moments?

And perhaps:

Is everything I've been calling control actually

the   same thing?

You don't have to fix anything you've noticed.

You don't have to become better at letting go.

You don't have to replace control with trust,

surrender, freedom, or anything else.

For now, you can simply notice that there may be

more in the picture than the word control

allowed you to see.

And sometimes seeing that is enough to open a

door.