I was so afraid of not being in control of my life that I stopped living. The more I focused on controlling my life, the more out of control I felt. The more I tried to control what others think of me, the more out of control I felt. The more I tried to control to every moment of every day, the more lost I felt. As I began to let go of more and more of that need to control each aspect of my life simultaneously, I realized I was going about it all wrong. The more I’ve let go of that control, the more in control I’ve become.
I was terrified of not having control.
I’ve always known myself to be a control freak. I love to plan things, but only if they go as I planned. I love change, but only when I control the change. I love to control things because then no one else can let me down, except for myself. And I think that’s where it got dangerous. I was too afraid of being let down to trust that I could I let go of control over a situation. My trust has felt broken when I haven’t been in control of situations, and I allowed that broken trust to give me a reason to never lose control.
My trust was broken as a child with my relationship with food and my father because of the way that I was punished because of food. And that broken trust spiraled into anger, and it’s resulted in a broken relationship with him. It’s not something that I try and control anymore, because I’ve learned that with this specific circumstance, mending that trust doesn’t seem possible. It’s not that I don’t want to mend it, it’s that the more I’ve tried to feel in control of the situation, the more let down I’ve become. And letting go of that control is putting the ball in his court, I suppose.
My trust was broken as an adult when my parents divorced. Sophomore year of college I was told my parents were getting a divorce. We weren’t a perfect family in any means, but it was still something that I didn’t see coming so suddenly. Being away at college, I felt like I couldn’t understand what happened. If I had been there, would it have been different? Was it my fault? Why was it worth it to break up our family? I had zero control in that situation and it broke my heart. And in a way, I believe this need to over-control was a way of me protecting my heart.
In the end, it’s on me.
But me protecting my heart caused me merely to shelter it from everyone but myself. And then I broke my heart. And with that, I broke my own trust. With each heartbreak or ounce of pain or or disappointment or fear I’ve felt, a wall was put up around my heart, my mind, and my feelings. I could only control my own life, so I decided to control it all. Constantly planning what was next, how I would feel in 5 minutes, 10 minutes, a day later. Constantly thinking of what to say or how to act because I was thinking about how the person I was interacting with would think about it. Constantly worrying about what my body looked like to others and how my body would look in each piece of clothing I wore. And work threw a wrench in my plans of controlling everything. I quickly realized at work that I was no longer in control of 8-10 hours of my day. I had worked incredibly hard in college to feel in control of my future, how could I have put myself in a position to not feel in control anymore? It was like I had tricked myself and trapped myself in a corner. What would people think if I left a job that I obsessed over getting? I couldn’t control their thoughts. I couldn’t control my thoughts. It was like a spiral that immediately sucked me in – controlling what I put in my body and how I exerted it were 2 things that I knew I could control 100%. And that’s what I did. Temporarily, it worked great. I was thriving at work, I was thriving outside of work, and I felt great. But the second that I didn’t feel great, I felt like I was losing that control, so I would overcompensate in those two things that I knew I couldn’t lose.
And the spiral continued.
The spiral continued, it sped up, and I crashed. I couldn’t feel anything anymore, including in control. I would get small ounces of control during my morning workouts, and during my meals. And that’s when I finally realized I needed help. I was so far deep in a hole of addiction and self-loathe for putting myself in that position, and it took me a really long time to accept that, and even longer to forgive myself. I’ve had to mourn the loss of my eating disorder. I’ve had to mourn the loss of the highs it would make me feel and the lows that it wouldn’t make me feel. I had to mourn the sense of control I convinced myself I had, and realize that life isn’t about control.
Some days I still mourn, but most days, I choose to let go.
Life is about letting go. It’s about letting go of the fear of the unknown. It doesn’t mean that I’ve stopped caring about being in control of my life – but rather, the more I let go of control, the more I live in the moment, the more I experience life. I deeply care and look forward to my future, and now I have the passion and desire to fight for it. Not in the sense that I have to control it, but more in the sense that I’ve learned to trust myself and the path that I put myself on. To trust in the process of life and learn from my mistakes, grow from moments of weakness, and accept that it’s not always going to perfect. But perfection is overrated – it’s boring. A life of ups and down means a life of living and learning, and letting myself be me. Being vulnerable in every aspect of my life, and overcoming my fear of the unknown, the uncontrollable, has shaped me into a brave, strong woman. I’m terrified of fully letting go of that control I used to feel, and that’s why some days are harder than others. It’s why when I feel overwhelmed or upset, I immediately feel the need to cope and overcompensate for those feelings. It would be so easy to give in and get that immediate release of dopamine, but then I remember how hard it would be bounce back from a full relapse. I’m not perfect and I still slip up and lose accountability to myself, but it’s what I do after that’s important. And each time, I’ve chosen to forgive myself and move forward. Recovery made me let go of complete control. It made me accept what I can control, and trust what I can’t. It’s allowed me to be hopeful and excited about the unknowns of the future and where it might take me. Letting go of control allowed me to have a future.
Blooming into Myself 