Confessions of a Control Freak
woman driving car
I've been grappling with the New York State Department of Motor Vehicles for months.
As you may know, in late January I packed up my car and my dog Bebe and headed to Arizona. I left for a couple of reasons. I was ready for a big change, and I wanted to escape the brutal East Coast winter. I had no idea how long I'd be gone. I had no real plan.
It was surprisingly liberating.
That is...until it came time to renew my New York car registration and inspection.
Let me tell you, if this wasn't a lesson in surrendering to things I had little or no control over, I don't know what is.
I won't bore you with the details because only one of us needs to suffer through them. If I told you the whole story, your stress level might rise right along with mine.
Just know that I started the process months before everything expired. I'll take some responsibility because I didn't always follow the instructions exactly. But government bureaucracy is what it is.
The entire experience was exhausting.
What surprised me wasn't the paperwork. It was my reaction to it.
I found myself wondering why this felt so debilitating. After all, here I was, living as a nomad without a permanent home. You'd think I'd become an expert at letting go.
You'd be wrong.
When I finally stopped replaying everything in my head and simply sat with what I was feeling, one truth became impossible to ignore.
I like being in control.
Actually, that's an understatement.
For much of my life, being in control has felt essential.
Somewhere along the way, I learned that if I stayed in control, I could protect myself. If I planned enough, anticipated enough, and managed enough, maybe nothing bad would happen.
Except life doesn't work that way.
Difficult things happened anyway.
The only difference was that my need for control often caused me to live smaller than I wanted to.
Now, to be fair, I've come a long way.
I'm still living nomadically. I make decisions using both my mind and my heart. I'm learning to surrender, not just to the Universe and whatever unfolds, but also to who I truly am instead of who I think I'm supposed to be. More than anything, I want my life to reflect compassion, kindness, and love.
But growth isn't about never getting triggered again.
It's about recognizing the trigger when it shows up.
Let me go back to the DMV experience for a moment.
A couple of days after my New York registration had already expired, it finally arrived in the mail. By then, I had already started Plan B and was preparing to register my car in Arizona.
The moment I held that registration in my hands, something happened.
The anxiety disappeared.
Instantly.
It was replaced by relief, and, honestly, a little bit of giddiness.
That's when I realized this wasn't just about paperwork. It wasn't even about driving an unregistered car.
It was about how deeply my nervous system had been activated for months without me fully recognizing it.
You might be thinking, "Well, who wouldn't be stressed?"
You're right. Most people would be.
But that isn't the whole story.
What this experience showed me is that while I couldn't control the DMV, I had more influence over my response than I was giving myself credit for.
My nervous system had convinced me I wasn't safe until the problem was solved.
And that is a very old story. One that has nothing to do with a car registration.
So what did I take away from all of this?
First, pay attention to your body.
Your body is incredibly wise. It often knows you're carrying stress long before your mind catches up.
Second, when you notice yourself becoming anxious or overwhelmed, find ways to calm your nervous system. Take a few slow breaths. Step outside. Close your eyes and feel the sun on your face.
Finally, become curious about your triggers. Put a hand on your heart and ask, "What's really going on here?"
Instead of judging yourself, ask, Why is this bothering me so much?
What story am I telling myself? Is that story actually true?
You don't have to shame yourself for your reactions. You simply have to be willing to understand them.
Because you are the keeper of your inner world.
No one else can do that work for you.
Life will continue to throw frustrating situations your way. Some you'll be able to control. Many you won't.
Perhaps those moments aren't interruptions to our growth. Perhaps they are the very invitations we've been waiting for.
They show us where we're still holding on.
They reveal the stories we're still believing.
And if we're willing to pay attention, they gently guide us back to ourselves.
With curiosity instead of judgment.
With compassion instead of criticism.
And maybe, just maybe, with a little less need to control everything along the way.