Shifting Your Relationship with Control
I was recently doing some work in a course I’d enrolled in to support my own development. I encountered a point of view about control that felt simple, obvious and yet somehow new to me.
It suggested: Control is a response to a lack of trust.
Control and doing things myself is my default way of responding to the world. My desire and ability to release control is the lesson I'll continue to learn throughout my life. I know many of you lean into this same default mode of being in your world.
This idea — my leading with control has something to do with trust — feels incongruent with how I identify. I see myself as a trusting person. I approach new situations and new relationships with the assumption of trust. And yes, I’ve learned this assumption is a big privilege available to me as a white-passing woman.
It doesn’t always work out. But I’m still the type of person who will leave an item I sold on my porch and trust the buyer to leave me money. The rewards of this approach far outweigh any downside I’ve experienced in my life.
I've faced a series of unfortunate twists in my path. The kind that suffocate the light in life. Yet I still miraculously trust life will work out. Life working out for me means I continually land in places that bring me joy, awe and fulfillment.
That's all to say the implication that my control is rooted in a lack of trust strikes me.
When I lack trust
When I open myself up to that idea, I can see that my lack of trust does translate to control, particularly when things really matter. Control has been my adaptive strategy in those moments.
The things that really matter to me are the same that matter to most humans: a desire to feel seen, included, appreciated, connected and loved.
When I exert control, it's to 1) have those feelings or 2) avoid the possibility of losing those feelings.
I can relate my control over my son’s extracurricular activities to some of those feelings. I want to feel loved and appreciated by my husband for my investment. And I want to feel loved and appreciated by my son in some future state of his life. I want to feel this, despite the insignificant nature of my son's activities.
At work, my attempt to control the work of my direct reports is rooted in a desire to feel seen and a desire to feel included in business-critical work. I’d continue to join meetings or take on work that was not the best use of my time because of a desire to feel connected to the people with whom I’d built relationships.
Shifting my relationship with control
I remind my clients all the time that any behavior you're looking to change has served a purpose. I hold on to my control because it’s been successful at delivering the feelings my humanity desires. Control has led me to feel seen, included, appreciated, connected and loved. A deep appreciation for my control emerges.
My continued control is arduous and exhausting. I don’t love myself when control has such a heavy hand in my life. I’ve grieved the support and surprises that would emerge if I were willing to let some control go.
If I want to succeed at letting my control go, I have to believe those feelings I desire can still exist in my life. Until I do, asking myself to let go of control also means releasing those desires. My brain believes if I release my control, I have to kiss those feelings goodbye.
The reality is that life does deliver those desired feelings, even without my control. I’m not as at risk of losing them as my brain wants me to believe. There's an opportunity for me to play a role in helping my brain relax. I can loosen the direct link it's built between my control and satisfying those needs.
The easiest way to do that is to take an inventory of where my life already satisfies those desires. I can look at the places in my life right now where I’m feeling seen, included, appreciated, connected and loved.
The more I do this practice — identifying and acknowledging where those feelings exist — the greater my ability to seize control.
This practice will also shift my relationship with trust as part of that process.
Call for reflection:
What's one behavior you’ve been trying to shift? How has it served you in feeling seen, included, appreciated, connected or loved? Thank it for what it’s given you.
Shine On,
Alicia