I love control. Well, part of me loves control. Or minimally, perceived control. The experience of feeling like I have the upper hand and can make things happen. Preferably ALL the things.
Except I can’t. Nor am I supposed to. And that’s when things get hard. When this part of me that loves control suddenly feels like she’s not at all in control. And panics.
I sat with this feeling and asked the divine for support, and was offered a memory to ponder. I was transported back to the days of my life as a school counselor for adolescents. I recalled the countless phone calls I received from parents spiraling that their child, the one they knew so well, had taken a turn and become someone they didn’t recognize.
“I don’t understand.” They would say. “How could my sweet child stop talking with me, stop sharing and become so secretive and contrary. I feel like I don’t even know them.”
Inside my quiet office with no conflict, it was easy to see. This fear was more common than not.
“I wish you could talk to the other parents I hear from,” I’d say. “I wish you could all be in the same room listening to each other say the same thing, sharing the same fears, frustrations and worry.” I tried to reassure them. “This is the age where they begin to pull away because they are supposed to. Where they start to make decisions for themselves to assert their independence and listen to their own voice. We don’t want submissive kids to become submissive adults. I know it doesn’t feel good, but this is where they are supposed to be.”
I continued…
“The hard truth is we’ve never had control. We’ve only had the perception of it. We’ve never controlled how long they would stay in diapers, eat the food we tried to convince them was good for them, hang with the friends we knew would positively influence them, do their homework or have an interest in anything we have to say. They might go along with our views and our values, but at some point they begin to question what they’ve learned and assert their own budding views and perceptions. They try on autonomy and push us away so they can get comfortable walking on their own two feet without us being the crutch. Our job at this time is to trust we’ve given them the foundation they need to make the choices that serve them well and take care of ourselves in the process of letting go of whatever control we thought we had, and assert the little control we have left over our environment and our things.”
(Insert any person or relationship you want to control, not just children)
I would then reaffirm the need for boundaries and harp on the importance of the parents getting support for themselves to help them through this transition. Then I would go home and play with my own high energy kids who tested the boundaries as well. Though never to the point that I experienced with teenagers or adults.
As I sit with this fear of not being able to control others, their choices or the ways they impact me, I am reminded of this time of life. When it seemed relatively simple to understand, but harder to practice. Let go of what you can’t control and focus on what you can….
In some ways, this concept of surrender is extremely liberating. To know I am not in charge and can not dictate the free will of another takes the pressure off from trying. Yet, it has not taken away the desire. Or the bracing, or the seemingly ever present- “what if.”
I still want to control it all. But not being able to?
I question what it would feel like to open myself up to the freedom of letting go and why that freedom feels so short lived. It’s not that I want to control them, I want to control any potential pain that might come from the choices they make and how those choices will impact me.
Any attempt to control them is really trying to control how I MIGHT feel if things go badly. Or put an end to any pain I feel now. Whether the pain is current or a fear of future pain, the grip intensifies the discomfort I feel now. The grip I can’t seem to let go of. Because if I do, if I surrender to the unknown and trust I can handle what comes next, I’ll also have to trust the flow of wherever life is taking me.
Ooof.
The inner conflict is real.
I want to let go. I’m scared to let go. I want the freedom. I’m afraid of the freedom.
Contract. Release. Contract. Release. Repeat.
We will always contract. We inherited this protection. The question is am I contracting more than releasing? Am I letting go as much as I am holding on? What is the ratio?
If the gripping and contraction is more prevalent than the letting go, here’s a somatic practice I use that can help when I’m on auto pilot:
What does gripping or trying to control feel like? Describe it.
What does releasing or letting go of control feel like? Describe it.
Notice how each of these feel in your body. Allow yourself to capture the imprinted feeling so you can discern the difference next time you find yourself agitated or fearful of lack of control.
Sometimes when we let go, we feel emotions come up to be released that have been suppressed by the constriction. This is really common and a sign that letting go is working. As the emotion moves through us, we return to our state of calm and clarity.
Bonus? That emotion you were afraid of feeling just showed us what it’s like to be felt and released. Which means, we already know what we are doing and have the courage and ability to do it gain.
Woo hoo!!
This is how we build trust in ourselves, in choosing ourselves and our needs and letting go of that which we can’t control.
Where does your fear of letting go of control come from? How do you work with it?
Lynn Reilly is a licensed professional counselor, master energy therapist, and author of the self-help book, 30 Days to Me and the children’s book, The Secret to Beating the Dragon. She is also a contributing author telling her story of hope and transformation in the book, Crappy to Happy.
Lynn is a lifelong counselor with an expertise in understanding human behavior and sharing this knowledge with others. Her passion is to inspire people of all ages how to support themselves while living a serendipitous life…a life filled with unexpected joy and passion…a life meant to be.
