This post is also available as a podcast here: https://podcasters.spotify.com/pod/show/s-p01/episodes/Control-e29o03d

I’m a bit of a control freak… always have been, as far back as I can remember.

I’ve known a lot of people who I related to that had issues with being controlled, whether it was their families, partners, or other influences in their life. See, when our family exerts control over us, we have nowhere to turn for freedom. We live a confined life, so those I’ve known with controlling families tend to exert control in the places they can. This can be in their appearance, attitudes, and/or small rebellions.

I knew people who seemed vain; obsessed with the details of their appearance and meticulous about the details. What’s weird is that they weren’t vain, they were just exerting control over something. I see and understand this because I, too, went through a period of exerting this kind of control over my appearance. My mom thought it was oddly hilarious that I organized my closet so that I wore outfits in a set order that was planned out weeks in advance. I also planned out my hair and makeup. That was the version of me in high school. After years of being on lockdown, unable to visit friends, because of my alcoholic stepfather – I was exerting some form of control through my appearance.

I knew people who seemed careless when really they were scared of any commitments that might further control or confine them. They act like they don’t care, when really – they care – but they don’t want anyone to exert further control on them. When much of your life is being defined for you instead of from you, or you just feel like your life is not your own – anything that threatens to take more of it from you is too much. Because the current weight of outside expectations is already too great. I think this is why I own the phrase “I don’t fit in a box.” I won’t let anyone else define who I am; I can get independent af.

I knew people who found small rebellions that allowed them to show who they were without crossing the lines they were confined by. I do it with cat socks and bright colors in my wardrobe so I understand. Dressing “normal” depresses me because it feels confining. It’s like Detective Booth’s character in Bones, and his “Cocky” belt buckle. The small rebellions are a sense of self that is shown, without being shown in a way that would threaten our security. Sometimes these rebellions were also in the actions – leaning into time blindness, playing dumber than they were, and/or taking space in ways that inconvenienced others. Small rebellions to keep the peace inside.

Okay, digging deeper: the behaviors that I’ve mentioned may help cope with these controlling issues, but they don’t remove the control or confinement. Much like some of my previous posts, the only way to be free is to literally free oneself from those that are being controlling. Take a break from their influence. See where your heart lies; what’s you and what’s them. With families, this is incredibly difficult. I can’t tell you to cut out your family; I don’t know the details of the situation. Only you can decide what you can do to escape that influence and control. However you do it, I hope you find that freedom and the peace that comes with it.

My story this week is, of course, about a situation involving control. This one is hard for me to write. I don’t think I can make it funny.

My biggest control issue stems from a phobia. I have a phobia, it’s called emetophobia, and it’s a fear of vomit. This, at its core, is about control. I remember having a panic attack around 5 years old when my family was watching a movie where the opening scene involved a woman making vomit noises, no visuals. I freaked out and ran out of the room. My reactions to any entertainment involving vomit scenes went rather similar to that until I had my child. I had panic attacks just hearing about someone vomiting after the fact. When I could finally watch a vomit scene without freaking out, it changed my life. I still have days where I get an increased heartbeat, and/or hyperventilate, but I haven’t had a full panic attack in a while. I can count all the times I’ve vomited since age 5 on one hand. My phobia was severe.

These types of control issues affect other areas of life. I still refuse to handle raw poultry without gloves. My stepfather had salmonella poisoning when I was in junior high and I will never look at raw poultry the same. I overcook chicken out of my fear; out of a desire to control the risk. So, when I tell you that I caught my child’s vomit in my hands without a full-blown panic attack, I hope you realize that this was a huge win for my psyche. It took a long time to get there. It took therapy focusing on the phobia. I guess the takeaway from this story is that, whatever your control issues are, you can get better if you work at them. Love.

When you find yourself fixated on controlling something – remember that we can’t control anyone else. The release and peace of flow is the only way to go.

Love and Peace, -S.