The moment I realized I was a controlling person, and what I did about it.

When our partner accuses us of a shadow, sometimes it’s helpful to stop and wonder: perhaps there is some truth to it? That’s what I did. And here’s what happened.

During our fights, my ex-partner would accuse me of being a controlling person. I denied it. What?! I’m a people-pleasing Libra — who is always accommodating to what other people want — how am I a controlling person?! Until one moment, that changed my perspective.

It was the morning of Thanksgiving, we were making our signature contribution to Thanksgiving dinner: Sweet Potato Casserole. The recipe consisted of a crushed cornflake topping that my partner told me he wanted to make. Even though I said okay, I didn’t really see the big deal, and I began to crush the cornflakes. He came rushing into the kitchen and once again accused me of being a controlling person.

The thought that came into my head was “Well, you don’t do it right.”

And then, that was when I realized: Oh shit, I am a controlling person.

Because… not crushing cornflakes correctly, isn’t really a thing. I mean, sure, you could crush it too finely or not enough, but is it really a big deal? My perfectionist Virgo stellium may think so, but in the world of things to perfect, it’s not really worth defending, especially if it brings my partner joy to crush the cornflakes.

Because, he truly does! The next year, when we made the dish again, I let him do it. And he giggled like a little boy as he crushed the cornflakes in a ziplock bag. The sounds of crunching as he smushed each flake, seemed to bring out his inner child. Apparently, he looked forward to doing it every year, but I had no idea.

When your ex is right about your Shadow

This seemingly-kinda-dumb-fight opened me up to a shadow, I was finally ready to look at: my need for control. I finally saw what he was trying to communicate. The little ways in which I controlled things in our relationship, such as buying things for our place that may affect him without checking in with him. (Because if I were honest, I wanted it my way). Or me being frustrated with the way he does something and re-doing it myself.

I’d like to think I was being helpful, but really, I was acting out of a survival mechanism from childhood. As a child, I ping-ponged between feeling very out-of-control, and feeling the need to be in-control to perfectionism. Control was my way of dealing with my mother’s criticisms. Since I didn’t want to be criticized, I tried to do things perfectly.

Because of this perfectionism, I would take on the brunt of stuff that needed to be done in the relationship and judged him for the way he did things. I had taken on a ‘if it can’t be done right, then you gotta just do it yourself’ life philosophy, that was putting strain on our relationship. Not only does this perfectionism effect him, making him feel like he’s useless and a lack of collaboration in our partnership, I was overburdening myself with tasks, and not asking for help because he didn’t do it in a way that I approve of.

Uf! That disapproval. That disapproval energy comes from my mother. And it was time to let it go.

But there was part of me that wasn’t ready to just jump from the cliffs into complete no-control. And so, the first thing I did was, I put a wallpaper on my phone that said “Be less vigilant.” just so I can be more aware of it. This message of “Be less vigilant” was to remind myself that I don’t need to hold everything so tightly. Can I unclench, just a little? Perhaps let things slip, if a mistake is made. This goes for me, and my partner.

The Gift of Letting Go of Control…

Slowly, I began to let him do things the way he wanted to do it, even if it meant happening slower, and perhaps not done to the specifications and quality to which I would want (which is totally my own opinion!). As I let go of the control, something began to unlock within me: Receptivity.

When we over-control, we cannot receive. We cannot allow the flow of giving to come to us, and open ourselves to fully receiving its love in gratitude that others want to give to us. He couldn’t give to me, if I am trying to control everything. Which was an issue in our relationship in more ways than one. When I let go of my controlling energy, I created more of an opening to receive.

And so, I’ll admit that I still don’t think I am as controlling of a person as my ex would accuse me of, but I fully acknowledge that controlling energy does exist inside of me. And seeing it, healing it, and living consciously with it has freed a part of me that kept me in that anxious energy of — what if it doesn’t get done right? Letting go of the over-controlling tendencies meant that I am more able to receive from others, even if imperfect.

Reconciling the Wounds of our Shadows

The following year, I was home for Christmas, and went grocery shopping with my mom. She asked me to get her some celery, and I grabbed one and put it in the shopping cart. My mom picked it up and said “This celery is not good.” And she went to get another celery.

This minor incident triggered all the times she criticized me, and all the old hurt came spewing back. Part of me wanted to lash out, but I could feel my body’s reaction is way bigger than this bundle of celery. I said nothing and let her find her perfect celery. Afterwards, I went home and locked myself in my room like I did when I was a teenager. But instead of listening to angsty, emo CDs, I did some meditative healing work on myself. In a more calm and centered state, I was able to see how she also has a hard time receiving — just as I was unable to as well. To truly let someone else help her, even if it isn’t perfect. And I felt more compassion for her.

A few days later, we were grocery shopping again, and this time, she asked me to get a cucumber. I went and got the cucumber, and once again, she put down that cucumber and picked another one. And a grace overcame me in that moment, and I said, “You’re right, that is a better cucumber.” — and I wasn’t being sarcastic! I could feel her beam a little, receiving a compliment from me.

And that was when it hit me: she probably received the same trauma I did. And so, she can’t help it. She hasn’t had the ‘aha’ moment when she realized that it doesn’t matter if the cornflakes are crushed to perfection, if it puts a wall between you and your connection with your loved one.

It reminds me of this quote from Lisa Nichols:

“All the people in your life are truly doing the best they can with what they have. People can only love you to the capacity that they are able to love themselves. They can only forgive and embrace you to the capacity that they are able to forgive and embrace themselves. They can only give you what they have the capacity to give. You may think that you deserve more, and you may be correct. But that means nothing if a person simply doesn’t have the ability to give it to you.”

― Lisa Nichols

And so, sometimes, I have to parent myself, as well as parent my parent. At this point in my life, I’m mostly okay with it, but I definitely have my moments too. Sometimes, we want our mothers to be the wise woman they talk about in the folklore. But we don’t always get that. And I acknowledge that my mother can be wise in her own ways too.

Perhaps this is the way we transmute generational trauma. We do the work ourselves, then share the compassion we learned. And as Lisa Nichols implies — we cannot have compassion for others, if we do not have it for ourselves.

May it be so.